


Smiling Man

by MuseValentine



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Death, F/M, Falling In Love, Gangsters, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Murder, Mysterious Neighbour, New Orleans, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, Prohibition, Romantic Angst, Romantic Gestures, Serial Killers, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Speakeasies, Tragedy, Unrequited Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 59
Words: 273,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21849835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuseValentine/pseuds/MuseValentine
Summary: Moving to New Orleans to start up her rehabilitation hotel for criminals hasn't been all berries for Charlie, especially if everybody thinks you're some Dumb Dora with a complete horseshit plan.And it's another jam that she's starting to get stuck on Alastor, the charming yet eccentric radio host next door who's never fully dressed without a smile.But she's all smiles too, and that's made her out to be quite the dish to Alastor - in all senses of the word - and boy, was he ready to be entertained.
Relationships: Alastor/Charlie Magne
Comments: 912
Kudos: 3543





	1. Hello Neighbour!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same

It was a fine morning as Alastor was finishing off his routine cup of black coffee before work when he looked out the window and saw an unfamiliar Bentley parked in the front of the house next door, which had been unoccupied for the last few months ever since old Mrs Jonesy suddenly up and gone. _New neighbours?_ he realised curiously with a smile, watching as two identical young men in matching suits and boater hats hauled suitcases from the car.

Well, he did have some time before he had to head to the station, and what kind of good neighbour would he be if he did not at least give his greetings to the new folk? Putting on his suit jacket and fedora, Alastor first took a look into the ice box in the kitchen to make sure that tonight’s dinner was safe from spoiling before strolling out of his house towards the one next door.

At the front door, he gave several loud knocks and waited, adjusting his bowtie in an effort to make himself more presentable. The door opened, but instead of one of the two he had seen earlier, there stood a young woman with bright blonde hair in waves down to her chin and cheeks flushed almost to bright pink on her pale face. Her eyes were wide with excitement, but that turned to surprised curiosity when she looked at Alastor.

Alastor’s smile immediately stretched into a grin, and his hand raised to wave as he greeted, “Hello!"

“Oh! Hello there!” the young dame replied, a big grin parted her rosebud lips as she opened the door wider.

“Alastor,” he told her his name, giving out a hand for a shake. “Pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart. Quite a pleasure! Excuse my sudden visit, but I was on my way to work when I realised I had new neighbours, and I couldn’t go without first giving my warmest welcomes.”

“Charlotte Magne, but please do call me Charlie!” she replied enthusiastically, putting her hand to his to give it a gentle shake. “And thank you for taking the time to say hello. If the house wasn’t so bare right now, I would invite you in for some drinks.”

“It’s the least I could do! And no need to trouble yourself, my dear. I’m sure you’ll probably be pretty busy with your first day here unpacking,” he noted, glancing at the unopened suitcases that lined the small hallway in front of her.

“Ah, yes, that is true. I am a bit frazzled with it right now, considering that it is my first time moving on my own. I’m not sure where to start!”

“Oh? But what about those two young fellas I just saw? Are those your brothers?”

Realising who he was referring to, she shook her head. “Oh, no! Those are my personal butlers, Razzle and Dazzle! They’re only here to help me with the move, but they’ll be going back to my parent’s estate once everything here is done.”

Oh? So, this young dame is here on her own? Alastor’s curiosity piqued with interest, eyeing her discretely to get a good look at her. He will admit that despite how youthful Miss Magne was, she was quite the looker. Bright-eyed and fresh-faced, so much so that one would have mistaken her for a young dolly if it weren’t for the gentle feminine assets on her willowy frame. But it was her smile that his eyes appreciated the most; so big that it made prominent dimples on her rosy cheeks, looking so sweet that it could almost give him a toothache. 

Alastor was suddenly brought back to attention when Charlie asked, “Pardon me if I’m being too forward, sir, but could you possibly be Alastor Carlon?”

Well, that was an unexpected turn of events, but nothing that Alastor didn’t appreciate for a moment of prideful peacocking. “So, you’ve heard of me, little miss?” he asked curiously, adjusting his glasses in faux modesty.

Clapping her hands excitedly, she squealed, “Of course! I don’t think I know anyone who listens to the radio who _hasn’t_ heard of you! Your voice is easy to recognise, since you’re quite the star on that talk show of yours. Oh my, what luck that I actually get to be your new neighbour!”

Any continued expression of fangirling was interrupted when someone from inside the house called for Charlie, which irked Alastor a tad bit as he was admittedly enjoying how much the doll was fawning over him. He looked up from Charlie at the voice; a young girl – she looked to be almost the same age as Charlie – that was tan and short with long dark hair. But while Charlie was all smiles, her friend Vaggie was clearly void of it. She had a look that seemed to be etched in a permanent grimace, her brows knitted skeptically as she caught sight of the man standing at the front porch.

“Oh, Vaggie! Come here and meet our new neighbour!” Charlie urged, waving her friend over. “Can you believe that it’s the one and only Alastor Carlon? That big talk show host from the radio!”

Alastor tilted his head in the direction of the girl, smile widening once more. “Hello there, young miss! Just dropped by to say welcome to the neighbourhood. Was just being fairly acquainted with your mistress here.”

“Friend,” Vaggie replied, voice completely deadpan and showing obvious disdain that he had mistaken her for a servant. He quirked a brow and tilted his head at this response, his grin turning into a close-lipped smile, but never dropping.

Whatever little tension that had grown was obviously missed by Charlie, who came to Vaggie’s side and held her shoulders gently. “Oh, yes. Vaggie’s my best friend! She’ll be living along with me here, so we’re roommates as well! At least it won’t get too lonely for me in this new neighbourhood.”

Alastor side-eyed Vaggie, who still watched him dubiously but immediately looked away to the floor when his eyes met hers, looking so much like a _cancelled stamp_ if it weren't for that air of contempt around her. A slight victory for him, he chuckled, chest almost puffed at his pride of smiling down at this unfriendly exchange, knowing how only fools would be weak enough to not smile at the face of such feeble hostility, especially one coming from a _pachuca_ like her.

“Well, I do hope that you’d find this little part of New Orleans has quite the charm! Now, excuse me if you may, but I think I won’t distract you from unpacking any longer. I’ll have to head on off to that little talk show of mine.”

Charlie’s lips made an ‘o’, pressing her hand to her face. “Oh, of course! We shouldn’t hold you back! Perhaps next time we can get to know each other a little more!”

Flashing another big grin at Charlie, he nodded. “That sounds like _berries_ to me! I’ll be off then! Don’t forget to tune in, darling!”

A final wave and he was off on his way, but not before hearing a quiet giggle before the shutting of the door. Alastor took one last glance at the house next door as he walked in the direction of downtown, but only seeing the image of that vivacious young dame as fresh as he could recall.

_What a charming little belle…_

But there was one thing for sure that tickled at the back of his mind from his thoughts of Charlie. Something that even tickled that sensation of excitement and anticipation deep in his core.

She looked absolutely _delicious_.

 _This is going to be_ very _entertaining…_ he thought to himself with a pleased tight-lipped smile. _Mrs Jonesy had been quite the drag, but at least she tasted good._

He suddenly felt himself craving for tonight’s dinner. Hopefully that ice box would do good in not spoiling the meat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we go! The next few chapters will introduce the rest of the characters while also letting the story take its shape, so I hope all of you can be patient with me! I really appreciate kudos and comments with constructive criticism, so please feel free to do so if you wish! Until the next chapter!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Cancelled stamp - a shy, lonely female, the type one would describe as a “wallflower”
> 
> Pachuca - Female Mexican living in America  
> (A/N: I know that this is not correct because it's been confirmed in one of Vivziepop's streams that Vaggie is actually Salvadoran and not Mexican, but I'm just using it as a general term used in the 1920s for Alastor to consider her as!)
> 
> Berries - Something that is good, desirable or pleasing


	2. Daddy Dearest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same

“Sorry, my darling. But you wish to move away?”

Fighting the urge to fidget too much in discomfort, Charlie only looked down at her wine glass and swirled the contents left in it, very aware of the heavy stares that she was receiving from her parents across the dining table.

“Yes, Daddy. To New Orleans.”

“My, whatever for, dearest?” Lilith questioned with a curious quirk of her perfect brow, setting down her cutleries on her unfinished plate of dinner as she gave her daughter her full attention.

Next to her, taking a thoughtful sip of the rich red wine from his own glass, Lucifer piqued, “Something to do with that new project of yours, perhaps? That… ‘rehabilitation hotel’ for criminals?”

Charlie looked up then, genuinely surprised that her father had actually remembered it although the last she had spoken about it with him was weeks ago.

“Yes.”

“But why New Orleans?” her mother asked with a tilt of her head. “Why not somewhere near home?”

“New Orleans will be a good place for me to start. Crime rates there have been pretty staggering and it’ll be great if I can just get the hotel –“

Interruption came when Lucifer set his glass down with a loud clink on the polished oakwood, sighing almost in exasperation. “Charlotte, how many times must I tell you this? You can’t just go on a whim with every little idea that pops in your head. You know very well how your other attempts have ended up.”

Ah yes, of course, he would bring that up. As much as Charlie absolutely loathed to admit it, her father had good reason to be scoffing at her charity plans, considering the history of how all her previous attempts had ended up failing before it could bear fruit. It was as sad as that one time when she had initiated that open-concept ‘free market’ that provided fresh produce free-of-charge for the poorhouse, only for it to be ransacked by _ringers_ that couldn’t pass up the opportunity of free food.

Shamefully, these series of failures had made her quite a laughingstock within the society her family mingled with, who considered her a _Dumb Dora_ and incapable of even holding a candle to her parents’ successes. ‘This is Lucifer’s heir? This what’s to become of the Magne family? How damning!’ she had heard one of many who mocked her.

But optimistic as was Charlie that she never stopped even with all of that backlash she seemed to attract for herself. As much as she was raised as a socialite like her mother, she did not want to just stand idly around when she could be using her status to work towards a better good, and right now she had that one goal to positively impact the lives of those who need it should the project flourish.

“But I have put much thought into this!” she fought back, standing from her seat. “Just hold on!”

She suddenly removed herself from her spot at the dining table with haste, running to her bedroom upstairs to grab the important article that had been sitting at her desk for a while now. Upon her return, she immediately came to her father’s side, holding out in her hands a document folder that was filled with papers.

Both Lucifer and Lilith eyed it with wide curiosity. “What is this?” he asked, taking it from her hands and flipping it open to scan through the first piece of parchment.

“My written proposal for the hotel!” she said jubilantly, almost bouncing on her feet as she watched her father flipping over to the next page.

“Sweet apple, you penned down all this on your own?” Lilith asked in amazement, leaning forward so that she too could scan a few words on the paper Lucifer was holding up.

“Yes! Everything! Word to word. I even proof-read it myself!”

At hearing that, Lucifer and Lilith gave a surprised glance at her before turning to look at each other, their silence holding a conversation between themselves in their eyes that Charlie could not decipher. They both down looked at the proposal file again, Lucifer thumbing through every single parchment in it quickly. 

“I… suppose I can take a look at it.” Closing the folder and handing it to Dazzle nearby, he dismissed her from dinner without a second thought. A sense of defeat immediately washed over Charlie, and she wanted to urge him to read it, but ultimately said nothing as she left wordlessly.

* * *

Charlie had been sitting at her vanity and getting her hair brushed by Vaggie before bed when a knock on the door came with a summon to her father’s private study. She gripped her night robe against the chill of the night, wondering what was so important that her father had to call her down near the witching hour.

Razzle knocked a few times on the closed doors, and upon hearing the stern ‘Come in’, opened the door for Charlie to enter before closing it in her wake, leaving her with her father who was currently reclining against his leather armchair at his desk, cigarette in hand.

“Sit down, darling,” he called, gesturing with his free hand to the seat opposite his. She quietly obeyed and took her seat, back upright as how a prim and proper lady should. Lucifer took another long drag, and Charlie waited to ask why she was called when she noticed her proposal folder on the desk, papers strewn about and clearly having been looked through.

 _Oh my Lord, did he actually read through everything?_ She thought anxiously, although there was a bubbling in her that urged her to hope for good news. Lucifer blew out a straight puff of smoke then butted out the _gasper_ on an ashtray and shifted his body directly towards her, fingers interlocking as he leaned forward.

“Tell me again, why do you seem so hell-bent on this?” Lucifer eyed her sternly, his tone seemingly unamused but had the glint of curiosity

Criminals are people too; she had reasoned as her intent. She reflected on how their time in the _Big House_ mars them to being outcasts that are effectively shunned by good folk as if they have a permanent brand on their faces that makes them unworthy of any hope of attempt at leading an honest lifestyle anymore. Doesn’t matter if they’d been out for months or years, or even just about to walk into the _can_ , life isn’t going to be fair to them at all from there on; she sympathised at the thought of such poor souls who may have well been eternally damned for the remainder of the breathing days in this world.

It would also be too belittling to the last shreds of pride and ego that they would hold onto to call the project a ‘rehabilitation centre’, which would only serve to soil their reputations as much as being in prison had. So, she opted to go for the concept of a hotel, thinking of the whole process as a ‘temporary rest’ for potential patrons to work on themselves with added specialisations, allowing them to reach a point of ‘redemption’ that they can be at ease with and thus minimise the risk of relapsing back to crime.

As she justified her project, Lucifer only kept quiet and listened intently, not once breaking her stride, only just hmm-ing and aah-ing at certain points. Upon finishing, silence ensued for a moment, with him gazing intensely at her, clearly mulling it all over.

“You do know that I am still quite unsure if this new project of yours can really be _hitting on all eights_. More so with it concerning _hoods_.”

Any sense of confidence Charlie had during her little speech immediately deflated, and she felt like she wanted nothing more than to sink into her seat, preparing herself for the usual disappointing dismissal once Lucifer let out a long sigh of contemplation.

“But I suppose this is a first you’ve put in a lot of thought to. Your mother and I impressed with how this proposal of yours turned out. Better than all the other _palookas_ I’ve worked with, that's for sure. Now then, I’d assume you’d need a property somewhere in New Orleans?”

…

Wait?

Wait.

WAIT.

“You’re agreeing to this?” Charlie questioned out loud in absolute disbelief because honestly, she could not yet grasp around the concept that her father had agreed to help!

A raised brow and a smirk, Lucifer hushed her. “Don’t get me wrong, sweet apple. I’m not doing this particularly because I believe wholesomely in the cause. Hell, I’d still say it’s a bunch of _phonus balonus_. But your mother apparently does have some interest in seeing how this idea of yours progresses, and seeing how your plan might actually have a shot at going long-term, I guess I can try helping you out with it.”

Despite Lucifer still not fully accepting the idea completely, it was enough for Charlie to squeal in delight and get out of her chair to throw herself over the desk and wrap her arms around her father’s lithe frame. Lucifer was taken aback in surprise, but couldn’t help the small grin as he reached up to pat her back.

“Just one advice, dear. Don’t you take shit from other _hombres_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Magne Family, in my opinion, has a pretty solid relationship, even if Lucifer thinks of Charlie as kind of a nuisance, though he does admire her stubbornness.
> 
> This is kind of like a prelude chapter before we get down to the nitty-gritty, which might be some time so please do bear with me, dear readers! Thank you so much for your lovely comments and kudos, and please do feel free to do so if you wish! I really can't wait for you guys to read the next few chapters!
> 
> 1920s slang;
> 
> Ringers - Fake  
> Dumb Dora - Unintelligent woman  
> Gasper - Cigarette  
> Big House - Jail  
> Can - Jail  
> Hitting on all eights - Go well  
> Hoods - Criminals  
> Palookas - Men, probably not very smart  
> Phonus Balonus - Nonsense  
> Hombres - Men


	3. Pulling Capers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same

_**“Remember to stay tuned, folks! This is Alastor Carlon, giving you all the goodnight smiles!”** _

With that finality, Alastor timed himself accordingly until he was sure he could finally go 'off air' before turning one of the many knobs on his radio transmitter until a resounding click was heard. He leaned back in his chair as he let out a breath and stretched his arms, feeling his stiff joints slowly loosening again. The station was quiet and empty at this time, save for a few who were probably staying the night running over their materials for tomorrow’s broadcast.

Not Alastor, no. He wanted nothing more than to get back home and have a nice _quilt_ of Cognac (boot-legged and hidden underneath a loose floorboard) and a book in hand before retiring for the night.

But he couldn’t. Not yet. There was something that he needed to settle first.

Getting up, he took off his headphones and placed it down next to his microphone, making sure his work station was neat and tidy as he liked it to be. The habit to be spick and span was trained into him since he was a young lad, something taught to him by his dear mother (bless her spirit). The slightest bit of mess was enough to irk him like an irritating itch.

Retying his loosened bowtie back into proper shape, he grabbed his suit jacket and fedora off the coat stand and bade goodnight to anyone he passed. On his way out, he caught sight of Tom Trench reclining on one of the couches in the station for what could be the umpteenth time. Alastor scoffed knowing how much of a pushover that _boob_ was to that _broad_ Katie Killjoy, who was probably being a _chippy_ and kicked him out of her apartment to shag up with another _egg_ , which was why the sleazy radio news broadcaster decided to take up the night here.

Ah, the simple idiocy of men. It’s a wonder why many were _duck soup_ for him on his hunts.

* * *

The bell above the door jingled, and Rosie looked up in irritation from the _kale_ she was counting from sales today. But seeing that grin she was all so familiar with pulled her lips into her own.

“Alastor! You silly boy! I was starting to wonder when you’d come by to see dear ol’ me.”

Taking her offered hand, Alastor pressed a quick peck to her knuckles. It had been a while since he had seen his dear friend Rosie, who quite liked to treat him almost like a little brother. “Apologies, my dear, but I’ve been very occupied with work and other matters.”

Rosie narrowed her eyes knowingly as her grin widened cheekily. “Ah, so here for business or pleasure?”

“Business, dear.”

Rosie’s Emporium – previously Franklin and Rosie’s, but poor Franklin had gone off to the _Big Sleep_ few years prior – was a quaint little shop on the outskirts of downtown that carried a plethora of antique knick-knacks and doohickeys, and mostly busied in the day by an assortment of customers like an antique-collecting enthusiast or some fellow looking to sell some old heirloom they had sitting around to make a quick buck. 

But the secret to Rosie’s ever-going flow of cash came from an antique bookshelf, where a few simple knocks on a shelf empty of a few books swung it open to reveal a stairway leading down to the swankiest speakeasy you can find in New Orleans.

The underground establishment was as large as a ballroom in The Ritz, with a big stage for the nightly musical entertainment and a gleaming bar filled to the brim with the most exquisite _hooches_ Alastor has ever drunk. It’s certainly quite the shocker that the quaint emporium above pulled off such a convincing front that it made the joint Rosie’s best-kept secret for years. She had been a _wise head_ to call the shots and pull some strings to ensure that it would never be found out by the _fuzz_. “It takes a woman to quietly plan, darling,” she told him smugly with a wink and a smirk to his inquiry when he was first introduced to it.

Tipping his fedora to Rosie, Alastor ducked into the speakeasy which was currently brimming with nightlife. A smooth jazz number was playing at the moment, and he took in the music with a pleased smile as he weaved his way through.

Most of Rosie’s patrons were _butter and egg men_ with respectable reputations to uphold looking for a quiet hidden place to go completely _zozzled_ , most having similarly-intoxicated _dishes_ draped around them. Almost everyone here was a big name in New Orleans society, Alastor included, and it would have been quite a _jam_ if any word got out of their patronage here if it weren’t for Rosie’s strict hand in ensuring ‘confidentiality policies’ for her guests.

“Hiya, Mister Al!” he suddenly heard a chipper voice called out his name. A tiny flapper was bee-lining to him, short bright red hair adorned with a jewelled headband that had a lone feather that bobbed as she walked with a skip to her step.

“Niffty!” Alastor grinned down brightly at the dolly. “Little darling, how are you?”

“Just been the absolute _bee’s knees_!” she twirled around him, her skirt swishing around her thin legs. She was Rosie’s bargirl here in the joint, having been taken as her charge quite a few years back. When the Sun was up, she worked the emporium out front, having a knack of making sure each of those old treasures was free of even the single smallest speck of dust, so much so that it could even borderline on obsession for absolute cleanliness.

Something Alastor didn’t mind, of course. It was something that he especially valued her services for. 

“So what’d you have for us now, boss?” she asked casually, knowing he’d get the double meaning. Niffty may seem like a ditzy young thing on the outside, but she was as sharp as a nail when it came to his visits, which he liked that about her.

“Clean-up duty,” he replied simply, getting a cheeky wink from the doll. He then took a look around, eyes scanning the establishment. “Where is Husker?”

Niffty gestured a thumb towards the cards table, currently bustling with noise as a familiar gruff fellow threw his hands up in the air in frustration, throwing his cards down on the table in a slight fit before heading to the back of the bar to chug straight out of a bottle.

Alastor chuckled at the sight as he took a seat on one of the barstools, all of which were empty at the moment. The man didn’t notice as Alastor was setting his fedora down on the tabletop and was still drinking himself silly, seeming as though he wasn’t going to stop for a breath anytime soon.

“Ah, Husker my good friend!” Alastor greeted loudly in jubilant cheer, causing the bartender to choke on his drink ungracefully, letting out a hacking cough and glaring at the grinning man.

“Don’t you ‘Husker’ me, you son of a bitch!” Husk grumbled, coughing and still bitter over his loss at cards. “I could have won the whole damn pot!”

“Good to see you too!”

He slapped a hand to his forehead, unsurprised that Alastor would just ignore whatever he had just said. Rubbing his hand down his face with a gruff sigh, he then picked up a wet glass and a clean rag, proceeding to clean in annoyance.

“What the hell do you want with me this time? Damn sure you ain’t just here for some _giggle juice_.”

“Just some gin on the rocks, my friend. And as always, I once again require your services. It’s quite a load this time.”

Getting out a tumbler with ice and pouring a generous amount of gin in it, he passed it to Alastor and clinked it in cheers with the same bottle that he soon immediately chugged from. It’s amazing how Rosie still hadn’t skinned him alive for drinking and playing cards on the job, but guess he’s just as lucky as a cat with nine lives. Besides, he was admittedly a pretty decent bartender, set aside the fact that he could possibly clean off Rosie’s precious spoils.

“That why you’ve been quiet for a few weeks now?”

“My, my! Is that concern I hear in that attractive voice of yours, Husker ol’ pal?” Alastor cocked gleefully, grinning so wide that Husk had to refrain himself from one of his many urges to give him some well-deserved _chin music_. Alastor only laughed, raising his hands in peace before taking another sip and aah-ing in satisfaction. “Yes, indeedy! Had to be admit that this catch had been quite exciting. Couple of goons tried to jump me on the way home. Quite enjoyable, it was! Meat was tender and fell right off the bone. Complimented the gumbo nicely!"

Husk shuddered at hearing this man’s grotesque reminiscence of his recent meal, and was pretty sure should anyone else be able to hear them that it would have swung heads faster than a racehorse. But even if that risk hung over them, Alastor did not seem to be the slightest bit worried. And if he was, it would have been difficult to tell behind that creepy fixed smile of his.

 _How in the fuckin’ hell did I end up working for this mad bastard?_ Husk sighed to himself as he took another long swig of the gin bottle. Moving on from the conversation, he asked in a hushed tone, “So, what it’d be this time? Fire or Earth?”

Alastor chuckled at the code used between them for their intended job, which had been Niffty’s creative idea of terming it. But he had to admit it did make the real question underneath seem a lot less ghastly and easy to pass off casually in conversation – depending on how it’s phrased, that is.

“Fire’s good. All that’s left just needs to be turned to dust now.”

With that, Alastor gulped down the last of his gin and proceeded to pull out a heavy envelope from the inner pocket of his jacket, holding it out to Husk with a wink. The bartender only rolled his eyes but took it straight to the back pocket of his trousers. Feeling the hefty contents assured that even after splitting the fee between himself and Niffty, it would be enough to tide him over (hoping he doesn’t lose them in his next game of cards, fingers crossed) until the next time the _screwy_ bastard showed up again.

“So long as it’s a _clean sneak_ , yes? I’m quite sure you and Niffty can manage that, as always.”

Straightening his jacket and placing his fedora back on, Alastor tipped it once to Husk and left without another word, ready to head home to that promised Cognac and book before bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just absolutely love the idea of bartender Husk and flapper Niffty being Alastor's 'clean-up crew', and what's a Prohibition-era story without a speakeasy? This won't be the last time we'll see it! 
> 
> Also, I just wanted to put it out there that Rosie, Husk and Niffty are very well aware of what Alastor does in his spare time, but they still adore him just the same (it's a real weird friendship).
> 
> I gain energy from kudos and comments so big thank you to all of you! As always, I appreciated every single one of them! Please do feel free to drop some for this chapter and look out for the next!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Quilt - Alcohol that warms you up  
> Boob - An idiot  
> Broad - Lady  
> Chippy - Woman of easy virtue (loose woman)  
> Egg - Man  
> Duck soup - Easy  
> Kale - Money  
> Big Sleep - Death  
> Hooches - Boot-legged liquor  
> Wise head - Smart  
> Fuzz - Police  
> Butter and egg men - Men with the bankroll  
> Zozzled - Drunk (shitfaced)  
> Dishes - Pretty women  
> Jam - Trouble/ Tight spot  
> Bee's Knee's - Extraordinary  
> Giggle juice - Alcohol  
> Chin music - Punch to the jaw  
> Screwy - Crazy  
> Clean sneak - An escape with no clues left behind


	4. Tête-à-Tête

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same

Head in her hands, Charlie sat at the steps of her porch, breathing out raggedly in frustration, fighting back the urge to grab the proposal file from her purse and rip it to shreds. The only thing stopping her was how her palms pressed hard against her eyes, feeling the sting from the combination of force and the tears that threatened to leak out.

“Well! What’s the lovely Miss Magne doing without a smile on her face?”

That familiar jovial voice was what tore her out of her little moment of self-wallowing, head snapping to the direction where her new neighbour was standing, arms crossed on the top of the fence he was leaning against, his bright eyes right at her as he smiled.

Charlie straightened up immediately, flushed with embarrassment at seeing Alastor Carlon. It did no good to her currently fragile pride and ego that the popular radio host that she’d been eyeing ever since she found out she had moved in beside his – surprisingly humble, considering the fact that he could probably be rolling in the greens from the fanfare he amassed for himself – home had to catch her in such a state.

 _As if I didn’t feel enough of a fool already_ … she thought to herself in agony, making haste to wipe at her eyes in case any tears were hanging off her lashes. “Mr Carlon!” she called back, forcing a smile to hide – albeit not effectively – the heaviness she was feeling inside. “Shouldn’t you be at your fancy radio show instead of hanging off the fence talking to dear ol’ me?”

“Alastor, please! I’m pretty sure we’ve gone past the need for formalities! And it’s the day off for this gent right here. Wouldn’t want people thinking I practically live at the station,” he replied with a chipper laugh, skirting around the fence as he made his way with confident steps towards her. “So! _What’s eating you_? It isn’t every day I see a doll sitting off the steps of her house looking like she wants to tear her face off.”

Any last shred of dignity she felt in her completely broke then, and her face went up in sudden heat. “Urgh, how embarrassing,” she muttered, looking away from him as he came to take a seat next to her. No point hiding anything now. “Just been feeling like such a _crumb_ … ‘Fraid the day has me _behind the eight ball_.”

Wide brown eyes stared down at her – he was, in fact, a good head taller than her – through wired glasses, head tilted to one side and his lips still pulled into that seemingly ever-present grin he always wore. “And why so, darling? Must have been a real _doozy_ if it got you here.”

Charlie would have blushed so girlishly at the endearments he called her by if it weren’t for the fact that her mind was in a pit that could have been as deep as Hell itself. “Oh, I won’t bore you with it,” she sighed, waving her hand indignantly. “Wouldn’t want it making that big smile of yours hit the road.”

Alastor let out a wholehearted laugh, and she would admit that it felt a bit comforting to know that at least she could have incited such a response from him.

“My dear, it’ll take a lot for this set of pearly whites to be knocked off this mug! I am _never_ fully dressed without a smile, just so you know!” he exclaimed confidently, adjusting his bowtie and flashing her a grin so bright and charming that she could feel the corner of her lips tilt up just the slightest. “Anyway, my mother most certainly did not raise me to ignore a dame in need. I’m all ears, sweetheart! It is my day-off, so why not I do the listening instead of the talking?”

Charlie bit her lip in hesitation, unsure of whether she wanted to relive the ordeal she had faced at the board meeting earlier this morning. Good Heavens, the shame that it would make her look to Alastor!

But the expecting look he gave her eased her up a bit, and so, she talked, starting from the beginning about her current passion project, which surprised Alastor greatly at hearing that this upper-class Southern Belle has plans on working with criminals, with the end goal of rehabilitating them back into being good members of society. But of course, such a project cannot even take root without some proper assistance from the officials.

Charlie came from big money, what with Daddy Lucifer playing with the stocks wisely and having close-knit transactional partnerships with the top elite of business society that allowed her and her parents several roofs over their heads. He had been the one to help her secure ownership of an old _flophouse_ near the countryside close to the bayous that she intended for the hotel, and even set up a business account filled with a little more than _twenty large_ to use as initial funding. But even with her father’s advice to ‘not take shit from other _hombres_ ’, she only found it appropriate to attempt to get some help on board with running the project, intending to make it non-profit so that it’s as honest as the mission she had centred around it.

Of course, what she had expected but still did not appreciate was how much these officials would actually view her idea as a joke! Rehabilitating a criminal? What kind of respectable _egg_ would want to waste their hard-earned _mazuma_ on that? It didn’t help that it added insult to injury when she was told that she was only just pretty young thing with ‘her head in the clouds thinking all goodness comes in the form of rainbows and puppies.’

“Can you believe those assholes!” she exclaimed out loud, arms outstretched in exasperation. “Laughed at my proposal for the fourth time even though I tweaked it numerous times for them!”

Alastor only continued to watch her with wide-eyed curiosity, and Charlie huffed and put her hands on her hips with a narrowed glare. “Let me guess. You’re going to laugh too and tell me it’s impossible to rehabilitate criminals?”

He put his hands up in open honesty and replied, “Well, I do find your blissful ignorance quite amusing, sweetheart!”

Wow, now did that hurt. Charlie immediately felt regret for venting out that whole story to him only for him to make such a cutting remark. As if it wasn’t pathetic enough that he had to find her in such a state, now she had to know that he too probably thought of her as some _Dumb Dora_ like everyone else around her, and that was one more too many.

Her pride wouldn’t allow her to cry, especially not in front of him, and she was about to grab her purse and bid him ‘good day’ before _dusting out_ into her house when suddenly she felt an arm wrapped around her shoulders. A quick glance down and she realised that Alastor was holding her there, and if she hadn’t been so upset at his little remark, she surely would have her whole face burnt up at the thought of him touching her. He seemed to have realised she was upset and had intended to up and leave, for he brought her closer to him until their sides were almost touching.

“Allow me to shed some light on these sinners you’re so desperate to help,” he declared with a knowing raised finger.

“Yes, some are petty thieves. Why they did what they did? Who knows? To feed their families with enough bread? To pay off the heavy _juice_ they made a mistake borrowing from the _trouble boys_? Or maybe even for some illicit _swell_ times? Like I said, who knows! But see here, my dear, some are murderers, with no other motive than morbid curiosity. Driven by a deep carnal instinct perhaps? Or maybe just to find out how much potential they hold in their hands to have the ability to so easily take a life as simply as blowing out the flame of a candle?”

Alastor’s other hand suddenly came up to hold her other shoulder, his eyes gazing deeply into hers as his grin stretched even further. “They certainly wouldn’t hesitate to split open that darling face of yours! These sick thoughts cannot be purified!”

Charlie could only look at him back with knitted brows pulling her face into an expression of unsettled concern. His words sent literal chills running down her spine, and not the type she would usually get at hearing his usual charming persona on the radio and the few times he had greeted a ‘hello’ or ‘good day’ when they were near each other’s vicinity. No, this one had her almost breaking out into goosebumps at how… graphic he was in his language.

“You’re… uncomfortably insightful on this,” she muttered uncertainly.

Alastor only laughed as if it was a casual joke and waved his hand dismissively. “A mere speculation, dear! You’d get a lot of these grizzly crime stories when you’re a radio host, is simply all! The ones about The Axeman are especially a legend!”

At hearing that, Charlie let out a shaky breath she did not even realise she was holding in, and too laughed although still nervous. “Ah, yes. Maybe that’s why.”

An awkward silence then befell upon them, but Charlie couldn’t shake off the feeling of being unnerved by Alastor’s little speech. Sure, it was simply just something he came up with on his own, but his imagination sure was vivid.

She looked up at the sky and noticed it turning a burnt orange.

“Ah, it’s evening now. I shouldn’t keep you here any longer,” she told him as she got up with her purse and brushed down her skirts. He too stood up, adjusting his glasses before taking her hand in his and giving it a soft kiss.

“Enjoyed our little conversation, doll. Hopefully, things work out for that little project of yours.”

Thinking back to their ‘conversation’ had Charlie immediately feeling her blood run a little colder, but she ignored it and forced herself to give a small smile. "Here's to hoping, then. And thank you for listening, Alastor. I really appreciated it.”

A final wave and a smile exchange and Charlie disappeared into her house, leaving Alastor to walk back to his own, sighing as he remembered the lifeless young woman in his basement that he had yet to prepare for dinner. He felt slightly disappointed, knowing that it wouldn’t be enough to quell the growing craving he currently had for his sweet neighbour.

Oh, how that terrified look on her face did wonders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the one that started it all! It's completely based on the comic by doodlingclown, which I've mentioned up above!
> 
> I know all of you are aching for some Charlastor interactions, and trust me, my fingers are itching and flying to write chapters faster to deliver as much as I can! There's definitely going to be more in the chapters after the next, so hang on tight, dear readers, because this is going to be very entertaining! (cue Alastor chuckling darkly)
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments for the last chapter! I read every single one of them and have the feels for all of you! Much appreciated and please do be free to leave some for this chapter!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> What's eating you? - What's wrong?  
> Crumb - Hopeless  
> Behind the eight ball - Down on one's luck  
> Doozy - Problem  
> Flophouse - A cheap transient hotel where a lot of men sleep in large rooms  
> Twenty large - $20,000  
> Egg - Man  
> Mazuma - Money  
> Dumb Dora - Unintelligent woman  
> Dusting out - Disappearing  
> Juice - Debt  
> Trouble boys - Gangsters  
> Swell - Good


	5. (Angel) Dust Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: DRUG USE & VULGAR LANGUAGE

Charlie knew very well that the process of rehabilitation will not be an easy one, especially those whose entire lives probably revolved around crime. But she had never had the opportunity to go head-to-head with one until she met Angel Dust.

It had been a twist of chance, their first meeting. Charlie and Vaggie were strolling down Bourbon Street when they encountered a tall feminine-looking blond being accosted by a couple of _rubes_ with slurs like ‘nancy boy’ and ‘ _ethel_ ’.

Charlie, intolerant of such audacity, marched on up to tell them to _scram out_ , successful only when Vaggie _socked_ one of them square in the nose and got them scampering away. But in lieu of any form of thanks, the blond only smart-mouthed about how he could have had it settled himself and didn’t need two _kittens_ to come to his rescue, infuriating Vaggie to the point that ‘colourful’ Spanish flew like spitfire.

Charlie, on the other hand, insisted for him to lunch with them at a tea house nearby, much to Vaggie’s protest, as she noticed how rough around the edges he’d looked and it didn’t sit right with her to just leave him on his own. The blond raised a brow at this doll’s genuine invitation, as though suspicious of her motives. But a simple shrug and he accepted the offer, introducing himself as Angel Dust.

He’d been more than open to tell his tale. A New Yorker, but had come to New Orleans under a sordid contract with a _big shot_ named Valentino to work in a bordello here, which he actually enjoyed with good _greens_ he’s been earning. All he had with trouble was lodging, for ‘obvious’ reasons. Valentino was a bitch to sleep with every now and then, so he’d been shacking up with anyone willing to give him a quick cash grab, and there ain’t no way in hell he’d be taking room in some _flophouse._

When asked about family, he had no intentions to go back to them in New York, having no good blood with Daddy Henroin and older brother Arackniss, and his loving twin sister Molly had gone and gotten herself hitched to some _wop_ – “It ain’t racist if you’re one too, doll!” – so he simply didn’t want to bother her. That, and he knew going back would mean he’d have to be pulled into his little family-run ‘business’, much preferring sex work.

Vaggie could clearly see how bright Charlie’s eyes had gotten all of a sudden at the opportunity that sat with a _dincher_ in front of her. An intense discussion ensued on the street side just outside the restaurant (Vaggie wanted to be out of earshot but still have Angel in her sights should he try to _lam off_ ), with Vaggie pulling all the shots to try to convince Charlie but ultimately giving in when her friend had reasoned earnestly on how this could be a chance. “If we could help to rehabilitate someone like him, it’ll give us a better shot to convince everyone that the same can be done for criminals.”

Angel had been _hinky_ , wondering why the hell would some random _broad_ just up and offer him a place to live rent-free when they returned to their seats. Crushing up the finished _butt_ , he had questioned, “What’s the catch?”

The condition Charlie laid out had been simple; reformation. Don’t do anything illegal and just take the time to ‘heal’ himself from his ‘wrongdoings’ and work on a better path to reintegrate into society. He stared at her in silence when she told him that, before bursting out loud in a big laugh.

“Have you gone off your rocker, toots? That’s pretty rich coming from a Belle like you!”

Vaggie would have taken that response as a refusal for the invitation and be on her way, but Charlie remained resolute, and a long talk later led to both a surprise and a relief when Angel eventually agreed, although quite obviously for the promised free room.

He moved in that night, becoming the Happy Hotel’s first official resident.

Things had been rough in the beginning, per se. Sure, he refrained from doing anything ‘wrong’ in the hotel - Vaggie made that rule very clear when she drained out all the flasks of _foot juice_ he had on him on the second night of his residence, resulting in a near physical altercation had Charlie not been there to put a foot down to it - but he had been quite the _owl_ and disappeared late into the night, only reappearing the next morning with a limp and a few _necking_ bruises that gave the girls a good idea on what he was up to.

It took a lot for Charlie to convince her friend that it was going to be a slow process, and this was all up to Angel’s pace, so they had to give him the time and be patient.

But it seems that patience can only be stretched so far.

The thing that broke the straw on both their backs was when they had found him curled on the floor in what was to be the lounge, spazzing out and drooling and half-naked covered in nothing but layers of cold sweat, completely _gowed-up_ and looking like he was staring Death right in the eyes. In his hands was a near-empty linen pouch of pure white powder, traces that was still stuck on his nose.

It had been an absolute miracle that they found him in time to get him to the nearest hospital where the doctors had been able to quell the effects of the heavy dose of Phencyclidine in his system, and Charlie cried for a day and a night by his bedside until they were all in the backseat of the automobile on their way back to the hotel.

Angel didn’t seem too shaken up by what happened, casually smoking by the window of the car, taking no notice of Charlie at the other end in complete unsound discomfort or Vaggie glaring him down with fires in her eyes that could rival the sulphuric flames of Hell itself, until he threw his unfinished stick out the opened window and turned.

“What?”

“‘What’? ‘WHAT’?!” Vaggie shouted at the top of her voice, causing Charlie to flinch. “ **’WHAT’ WERE YOU THINKING?!** ”

“Hey! I’ve been clean for at least two weeks! Isn’t that a somewhat ‘redeeming’ quality? So, I had a little relapse and _balled up_ a bit. Wasn’t that bad.”

“It wasn’t that ‘bad’?! How do you think folks out there would react if they found out we’ve let in some _four-flushing, dewdropping dope fiend_ in what was supposed to be a place for recovery? We’d be seen as nothing more than **a fucking joke**!”

Angel seemed unfazed by the string of slurs being thrown at him by the hot-headed Latina, but he didn’t hold back. “Well, if you guys wanted to _slay_ some people, you lookin’ to be more sad than funny.”

“Okay. Enough.”

The bickering between the other two ceased and all attention was on Charlie, who was frowning although that anger didn’t seem to quite reach her eyes.

“That shouldn’t happen again, understand?” she said directly to Angel, who just shrugged and looked back out the window. To Vaggie, she put a hand on her friend’s shoulder and gave a weak smile. “We don’t know if things are really over yet, babe. Try to relax. It’ll be okay!”

She knew very well that Charlie herself wasn’t sure if it truly was okay, but Vaggie’s heart softened enough to give her friend a small smile in return.

Upon their return to the hotel, Razzle and Dazzle immediately set about preparing lunch for the trio while they hung around the lounge, any traces of yesterday completely clean thanks to the ever-helpful twin butlers. When glasses of water were served during their wait, Angel picked one up and took a sip in boredom.

“Ya’ know, you really should consider putting up a _gin mill_ in here, so that this _joint_ really wouldn’t be such a _drag_. ‘Spose to be a hotel after all, ain’t it?”

He chuckled, but it died down immediately when he noticed Charlie looking more _grummy_ than ever. Awkwardness immediately set in, and Angel wasn’t sure how to deal with how much he was suddenly feeling quite bad for the doll. Even guilt maybe, for the _jam_ he had put her in when she found him? In a brief moment, he reached a hand out to Charlie, like he wanted to put it on her shoulder as a way to comfort her. But it was easier said than done for him, apparently. Realising no useful words coming to his tongue, he withdrew immediately, walking away pretending that never happened.

Charlie, who looked so ever to be on the brink of tears, got up to go outside for some fresh air a little while later, leaving Vaggie and Angel to themselves.

“Soooo… _what’s eating her_?”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“As serious as I can be _zozzled_ right now, _bearcat_ ,” he remarked, reclining lazily on the couch. “But really though, what’s her _beef_?”

Had her own energy not been so exhausted, she would unhesitatingly pick up the nearest object and hurl it straight at the insolent _sap_ that looked to her now more than ever like an eyesore in this already unlively establishment.

“I think you need to understand how important this is to Charlie,” she started seriously. “You have no idea how much she’d gone through just to even try to get this hotel up and running and it hadn’t exactly been easy for her.”

A ‘tsk’ by the blond. “You seriously think it ain’t _bull_ for her to play _crepe hanger_?”

“Can you at least _try_ to be serious about this?” Again, resisting the urge to cause some sort of bodily harm to him, Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a sharp breath. “You’re lucky enough that she still sees some sort of hope in you to let you keep staying here.”

Angel scoffed, but those words hit him enough to actually think about Charlie and her willingness to take him in and off the streets. Sure, in a way she is quite the _goof_ to not think that the idea of reforming someone from the error of their ways was just a waste of time, as any other _swanky bird_ like her would. But then again, he had to admit that there really wasn’t a lot of people like her left in this godforsaken world who still held to the promise of goodness and chances in people, especially to someone like him who’s so used to all forms of abuse coming in all directions his way.

She’s quite the rare gem, that doll, and he at least owed it someway to her for giving him a roof over his head.

“Fine. I’ll try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all of you, dear readers! I hope you all are having swell times opening presents and spending time with family and friends, or just enjoying your holidays however you please!
> 
> Finally, I've got Angel Dust! It took me a while to figure out how to, but I hope this managed to smooth him into the story. Also, sincere apologies to anyone who was triggered by the graphic scene of drug overdose. That would be explored more in the story, so please do be warned! (A/N: It's canon that Angel Dust died from a drug overdose of Phencyclidine, which is also known as 'angel dust', hence his name. Phencyclidine was popular in the mid-1920s as a recreational drug, and it wasn't as heavily prohibited or punishable by law as cocaine)
> 
> I hope you all are ready, readers, because it's going to get some heavy dosage of Charlastor in the next few chapters! Once again, thank you for each and every kudos and comments that I love so dearly! You guys sure can put a smile on my face! Please do drop in more, I would really appreciate it!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Rubes - Unsophisticated people  
> Ethel - Effeminate man  
> Scram out - Get lost  
> Socked - Punched  
> Kittens - Young girls  
> Big shot - Important individual  
> Greens - Cash  
> Flophouse - A cheap transient hotel where a lot of men sleep in large rooms  
> Wop - Racial slur for Italian (A/N: It's been confirmed by Vivziepop that Angel is Italian!)  
> Dincher - Half-smoked cigarette  
> Lam off - Run away  
> Hinky - Suspicious  
> Broad - Woman  
> Butt - Cigarette  
> Foot juice - Cheap alcohol  
> Owl - Someone who stays out late at night  
> Necking - Kisses on the neck  
> Gowed-up - High  
> Balled-up - Messed up  
> Four-flushing - Feigning wealth while mooching off others  
> Dewdropping - Sleeps all day and doesn't have a job  
> Dope fiend - Drug addict  
> Slay - Make one laugh  
> Gin mill - Bar  
> Grummy - Depressed  
> Jam - A tight spot  
> What's eating her? - What's wrong with her?  
> Zozzled - Drunk (shitfaced)  
> Bearcat - A fiery and vivacious woman  
> Beef - Problem  
> Sap - Useless person  
> Bull - Bullshit  
> Crepe hanger - Reformer  
> Goof - Idiot  
> Swanky - High-class  
> Bird - Person


	6. Walking The Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same

It was a bright sunny morning in New Orleans. The birds were chirping lively as the rest of the neighbourhood were starting their day. But Alastor paid no heed to that when he stepped out of the house and immediately noticed Charlie walking past his house, clearly dressed for a day in town, and distracted with papers of a folder in her hands.

 _Well, if this isn’t my lucky day…_ thought Alastor as he called out cheerily, “Morning, Miss Charlie!”

The dame paused in her steps and looked up from her papers to the bright-eyed radio host walking in big strides towards her. “Oh! Good morning, Mr Carlon!” Charlie smiled bright with a wave of her hand.

“Alastor, please. I did say we’ve gone past the need for formalities!”

“Oh, yes. How rude of me, that had slipped my mind,” she smiled sheepishly. “Off to work, I presume?”

Alastor nodded. “Yessiree! To the same old, same old. And where are you off to this fine morning?”

Gesturing the folder of paperwork that she had in her hands, Charlie gave a half-hearted smile. “To another meeting with a potential investor downtown. Tweaked my proposal yet again, you see.”

His grin grew brighter and he raised his eyebrows gleefully. “Well, downtown’s where I’m heading! Come on, darling, let me walk you.”

Charlie hesitated just a bit, suddenly overwhelmed with a strong bout of shyness. Walking with Alastor Carlon? Charlie was unsure of how to react. Golly gee, was her hair tidy? Did she take a good look in the mirror to make sure that her makeup was alright? Did she spray too much perfume on herself before she left the house?

Alastor must have taken her pause for hesitation, and he shrugged nonchalantly. “If it bothers you, I could just hang back a bit here and let you get an _ankle_ on first.”

He wouldn’t like that, but he won’t force it on her – he didn’t groom himself to be a gentleman for nothing, after all. Besides, he had no intention to push her away with unease when the goal was to get closer to her.

Hearing that made Charlie jump in a panic, realising how rude she must have looked. “Goodness! No, no, no!” she exclaimed, waving her hands as though to wave off any tension in the air, which amused him. “It doesn’t bother me at all! Please, walk with me.”

Charlie breathed a discrete sigh of relief when he seemed satisfied at that, and she wasn’t one to want to disappoint people, especially if they’re being kind. He gestured for her to take the first step before coming to walk at a steady pace beside her.

“So, tweaked it again, you say?” he asked, pointing to the folder in her hands. “Any new little bits that might interest the folks with the _poke_?”

Then appeared an excitable twinkle in her eyes and her lips immediately pulled into a wide grin, much to his delight. “Well, I hope so!” she chirped gleefully. “We’ve made quite some progress for the hotel. We even finally got our first patron!”

Alastor’s face once again turned animated at hearing that, and she couldn’t discern if it was shock or surprise or pride that he was showing.

“Well, put that on the radio and broadcast it to the world! Congratulations, darling! However did you manage to convince one of those fools to take part in that project of yours?”

She brushed off that little remark of his to continue with as much as vigour. “Well, it’s more like we found him. He looked to be stuck in a rut and had nowhere else to go, so we took him in.”

“So, a tramp from the street?”

Hearing that, Charlie gave Alastor a pointed look, tutting in disapproval. “He isn’t a tramp, Alastor. He’s just someone unlucky enough to be involved in a bad crowd and just needs a step in the right direction.”

Looking like he really didn’t seem ashamed, Alastor placed a hand over his heart. “Many apologies for my ignorance, Miss Charlie.”

“You are forgiven but just this once,” she told him with a warning finger.

“Of course, of course. Now, how’s the first ‘patient’ of yours been like? Everything going peachy as you’d hoped? Is he all set and ready to _break it up_ with his past of crime and wrongdoing to get on the path of do-gooding?”

If only that were the case, but Charlie thought of how things at the hotel had been _potty_ with Angel Dust, who’s still recovering from his recent relapse and have been somewhat on his best behaviour. He would still leave in the dead of night for ‘work’, but so long as he’s back and alright in the hotel by the time Charlie or Vaggie were there in the morning, she supposed it’s still better than nothing.

“Well, things haven’t actually been a _breeze_ , but rehabilitation is a slow process, so all we need to do is just give him time.”

Alastor only hmm-ed incredulously. “Well, if you say so, dear.”

The conversation came to a lull and they walked in companionable silence for a bit, with Alastor whistling a soft tune while Charlie looked through her papers again to make sure there were no mistakes in her new proposal. They only _beat one’s gums_ between themselves just as the streets were starting to get a lot busier as they were about to enter the heart of downtown, and she immersed herself in the buzzing of everyone around her going about their day.

But as they were standing by the road waiting for a clear to pass, Charlie’s attentions were caught by young newsie standing on the corner, holding up a newspaper and yelling out the headline to catch the attention of potential buyers.

“Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Missing people adding up! Is something sinister happening down in New Orleans?”

“How absolutely dreadful,” Alastor suddenly commented casually, shaking his head as they started walking again. “Someone really oughta tell the _fuzz_ to step up their game.”

Hearing that news made a lump of fear form in Charlie’s throat, promptly swallowed down as her head began filling with the possibility of some sort of villainous criminal on the loose and harming poor and innocent people. A shiver ran down her spine at the morbid thought of it.

But that thought in her head had, for some reason, made her think back to a couple weeks back to her conversation with Alastor on her front porch – more specifically, his little light-shedding on the types of criminals there were. It suddenly brought her thoughts of fear to a standstill.

“Alastor?”

“Hmm?”

“Uhm… if you don’t mind, could I ask you something?”

“Don’t see why you can’t. Ask away, dear.”

Now it was tough getting her question out on her tongue, definitely from some lingering awkwardness about their last conversation on the porch. Real silly of her to hold on to something so trivial, but ever since their little chat, all she could remember was how intent he’d been in describing the vilest criminal she could ever come across, how they ‘wouldn’t hesitate to split open’ her face, given the chance.

But she did have to admit that he did give her some insight on what was to come for her, bringing the question if, in the case that such a character does come to the hotel, would she be able to take them on?

“You see… what you said the last time about the sort of criminals there are…”

“Haha!” Alastor cut her mid-sentence with a teasing laugh. “Perhaps, I may have accidentally given you the _heebie-jeebies_ from the thought of it?”

If there was one thing that Charlie had learnt from the few times she’s interacted with Alastor, it was that he was completely blunt and brutally honest. Even if it may strike her the wrong way, she appreciated that he was giving his straight-up truth instead of sugar-coating it for her sake.

“Well, if you put it that way, then yes. Maybe just a little bit. You’ve said something along the lines of ‘those sick thoughts cannot be purified’…”

“Indeed, I did.”

She paused to think over her next question carefully, before releasing it one breath. “But in all honesty… Do you think it’s still possible for someone of a nature like that to want to ‘redeem’ themselves?”

Alastor chuckled then, and she didn’t seem to know what about the question he found so funny.

“Well, if you want me to be completely honest, I think that’s simply wacky nonsense!

Charlie wasn’t really expecting a hopeful answer, but his response did disappoint.

“I don’t think there’s anything left that could save such loathsome sinners,” he explained, shaking his head. “The chance given was the life they’ve lived before their _capers_ , and the punishment is being _cut dead_ from us regular folk.” Looking at her with arms outstretched, he told her, “There is no undoing what they’ve done!”

Now that struck a chord in her that only frustrated her more. Yes, he made it obvious from their first conversation that he thought the project was a silly idea, and yes, she appreciated the fact that he would give her his honest truth.

But that didn’t mean she would be agreeable to it.

“Now, hold it right there, Al.”

Her words made him stop in his tracks, eyes widening with pure curiosity at her sudden change in behaviour. She stood in front of him and looked him straight in the eye with a frown, hands on her hips.

“So, you definitely see my mission here as some kind of a joke. But I don’t. I think everyone deserves a chance to prove that they can be better, and it’s not going to help if I’m going to be like everybody else who forgets that they’re humans too. Yes, their vices may be questionable and unforgivable, and I can understand why you probably think the way you do. But put yourselves in their shoes and think; if you had to suffer for a mistake and wanted a way to change your fate, wouldn’t you? So, you and anyone else can _razz_ and _high-hat_ me all you want. It isn’t going to stop me from trying.”

Alastor said nothing, only looking at her with that still-present smile. She watched quietly, waiting for a response, but she felt so proud of finally speaking her mind out, so used to always having to hold back her tongue in respect to anybody she’s pitching to. It felt good to stand firm with her beliefs.

But then there was a twinkle of excitement and surprise in Alastor’s eyes, and she was taken aback by how he tilted his head to look at her in… adoration?

“My, my, Miss Charlie. That fiery determination of yours sure is something. Don’t think I’d ever come across someone with as much bite as you...”

Alastor had said it so low and deep that it had been enough for her insides to tremor at how intense his ‘compliment’ was. This was not something she’d been expecting, and she could feel any boldness she had a few seconds before quickly turn to shyness. And that shyness immediately turned into outright bewilderment when he suddenly brought a hand to her face to gently tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ear, and his hand stayed where it was when he leaned down, so that his eyes were levelled with hers, and continued gazing deep when he said, “If helping them means so much to you, I really can’t wait to see the smile on your face when you finally got it.”

Charlie said nothing, completely frozen, only gazing back at him. She could tell very well that her whole face was flaring red at this point – curse the fact that any blushing was so obvious on her pale complexion. _What the absolute hell am I supposed to do now???_ Her thoughts screamed in her head while her body remained completely still, all while she could feel her insides bursting with a warmth that made her almost want to melt.

But suddenly he straightened up, looking at the area around them. “Anyway! I believe this is where we part. The station’s that way for me,” he said, pointing to a direction, so casually as though the last minute had not happened.

“O-Of course!” Charlie exclaimed, finally finding her voice again and promptly straightened herself out. “Thank you for walking with me. I hope you have a good day at work, Alastor.”

He smiled and took her hand in his and to plant a soft kiss on her knuckles. She wondered if he was able to tell how hot she was when his lips made contact with her skin. Maybe he did, when he looked up at her with a cheeky wide grin, which only made her flare up in warmth more.

“Good luck with your meeting, doll. Hope you knock ‘em dead.”

With a wave goodbye, Alastor turned in the direction he was heading and walked away, leaving Charlie standing by herself on the pavement, only watching him with a stunned expression, the heat not going away immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a serious tricky one to write out. It was supposed to be a whole different scene but I felt that the original was rushing in too quickly without giving Charlastor some good development to the story, so I had to have a sit and think to figure out how to properly progress it without being so jumpy. I hope this turned out alright! The original scene will be slated to be Chapter 10!
> 
> Thank you all so much for showing your support and love for the story and for all the kudos and kind comments! I'm really glad to know that all of you are enjoying this ride with me! Please do take the time to give more kudos and comments!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Ankle - Walk  
> Poke - Bankroll  
> Break it up - Stop that, quit the nonsense  
> Potty - Slightly crazy, insane  
> Breeze - Easy  
> Beat one's gums - Idle chatter  
> Fuzz - Police  
> Heebie-Jeebies - The jitters, anxiety  
> Capers - Crimes  
> Cut dead - Ostracised  
> Razz - To make fun of or take the piss out of, heckle  
> High-hat - Snub


	7. Scum Jive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: MILD SEXUAL HARASSMENT

“Did ya hear?”

Alastor looked up from the reports he had in hand to Tom, who was leaning back in his chair with a cigarette dangling lazily from his lips and reading a newspaper. It was currently break between broadcasts, and Alastor would preferably read over his material over a smoke rather than interact with the sleazy fellow host that he’s quite distasteful of. Still, he guessed it wouldn’t hurt to just entertain the bored man for a bit.

“About?”

Tom gestured to the headline that was on the front page.

**_MISSING CASES GOING UP. NEW ORLEANS POLICE DEPARTMENT UNDETERMINES STRANGE CAUSES._ **

Taking a drag from his own half-finished cigarette, Alastor nodded once in affirmation. “Newsies around town calling it out from every corner this morning. Hard not to catch.”

Tom only hummed, flicking his _dincher_ ash onto an ashtray. “Suspect it’s some killer on the loose.”

“Is it now?” he inquired, his attentions suddenly interested as set aside his papers and paid full heed to the fella. “And why’s that?”

“Obvious, ain’t it? People just vanishing and not turning up anywhere at all? Sounds like they got _cut down_ to me,” Tom replied boredly, butting out his cigarette. “Question is; wonder what happened when they met the last man they’ll see alive.”

 _Oh, Tom, you_ wet _bastard…_ Alastor thought to himself darkly as he could feel his lips tilting up in pride. _…What happened would truly be beyond your feeble-minded imagination…_

“You really gotta stop doing that whole smiling thing,”

Alastor promptly snapped out of his thought and quirked an eyebrow at the sudden comment. “Pardon?”

“It’s creepy as fuck,” the radio newscaster carped as he pulled out another cigarette to light. “What’s got you smiling all the time anyway? Got some _sheba_ that’s wildin’ your bed every night?”

Narrowing his eyes at the insolence he so loathed about the man, he maintained his smile if so to irk Tom even more. To add on, he smoothly changed the subject and asked casually, “How’s that thing with Katie going on?”

A scoff, followed by an erratic puff of cigarette smoke. “Don’t bring up that _quiff_ ,” Tom sneered, looking detested at the mention of his rambunctious on-off partner. “As good as gone now is what it is. Now, answer the question, _mac_. Got anyone?”

Not interested in this uncalled-for _bull session_ , Alastor took another drag of his nearly finished cigarette and replied coolly, “Now I do believe that’s none of your _beeswax_ , Tom.”

Going back to his papers, Alastor continued reading in silence, wondering idly how hard could it be to not raise any alarm at work should he decide to _croak_ the revolting scum near him out of boredom.

* * *

Charlie watched quietly as the potential investor with the bald head and the _alderman_ she was sitting across read through her proposal again. She felt confident that her long detailed pitch would raise some interest. What with the inclusion of a first patron, the proposal finally had good leverage that it didn’t have before.

“Miss Magne, I can’t seem to understand the feasibility of this proposal in the slightest.”

She guessed she spoke too soon then.

“Sorry, Mr Alphonse, but I’m not sure which part of it you don’t find feasible.”

Gesturing to the parchment, he remarked incredulously, “What’s the end plan of this little project? You rehabilitate a criminal to reintegrate them into society, and then what? You let them go?”

Charlie became confused at the question. “Well… yes? The hotel isn’t intended to keep them forever.”

“Then how can you be sure you can let them go without the risk of them potentially turning back to their old ways?”

It was a good thing that Charlie already thought ahead for that possibility, and was more than prepared to answer. “We’d have a sort of ‘retention’ plan in mind. After they’ve ‘checked out’, we would check in on them from time to time in order to keep track of any continued progress outside, or to step in should there be the risk of them relapsing back into crime.”

“And how’d you suppose to work on these criminals in the first place?” Mr Alphonse probed more, and once again Charlie was prepared to answer without hesitation.

“With funding, we’ll be able to employ the hotel with counsellors that would be trained to assist each guest suitable for each of their needs, and also implement activities that would be beneficial in empowering their personal growth as individuals.”

Mr Alphonse only hummed in acknowledgement as he looked through the papers once more. “And what would I receive in return should I choose to assist you?” he inquired.

This guy’s questions were really making Charlie _steam up_ with annoyance and frustration, fuming to herself if he’d even been paying attention to her pitch or even bothered to properly read through her proposal. But she kept her cool, instead looking at it from a more positive side that he’s probably asking a lot of questions because he’s genuinely interested. At least he didn’t laugh at her outright.

“I’ve already included all the itinerary that you’d receive should you decide to become a donor. Monthly financial reports of the hotel’s expenditure to assure you that the funds have been put to good use, and also impact reports on the progress of each ‘guest’ so that you’ll know we’re not just having people there for no good reason.”

“Ah, yes, I see that right here,” Mr Alphonse replied, scanning through the page that the information was on. “Well, Miss Magne, although I would say the choice of target audience is a slight bit questionable, this does seem like a very interesting prospect. And for the good of the community, as well.”

Any irritation at the man disappeared upon hearing his words, suddenly feeling a burst of excitement at seeing how well this meeting was going. She internally jumped for joy at the thought that she may have finally found her first investor for the hotel.

“But, of course,” Mr Alfonse spoke up as he got up to go to her side, handing her folder back. “If I do so choose to be a donor to your establishment, I’d like to be compensated for something in return.”

“And what would that entail?” she asked as she got up as well, her eagerness showing in her smile. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement that could be to your pleasing.”

Mr Alfonse said nothing, and Charlie watched as his suddenly-hooded eyes went down to her feet only to trail up her form, and she was confused at this little look until she watched a smirk suddenly appear on his lips, where a tongue poked out to lick at them, and it all became too clear to her when he placed a hand on her shoulder and started to caress her arm. 

All the eagerness that Charlie felt quickly dissipated and she immediately recoiled from him in disgust, swatting his hand away forcefully. “Excuse me?!” she shouted, her other hand holding the place he had touched as though it’d been burned. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

He only looked at the hand she’d swatted with a chuckle and a leering sneer. “Simple request, really. Just thought a good _nookie_ would be more than enough in exchange for the help.”

Charlie felt anger burning like hellfire in her as she watched the vile man try to take a step towards her, and upon reflex she grabbed the nearest thing – a metal paperweight – and threw it right at his feet, making him curse out loud in pain.

“ **How about you go fuck yourself, you disgusting piece of horseshit!** ” she screamed, unable to stop herself from giving him a good kick to his manhood for good measure, really glad she wore pointed heels for that extra bit of pain.

While the pervert was doubled over, Charlie immediately walked out of the room, glad that he couldn’t attempt to block her way – or else things would have ended up far worse and she didn’t want to imagine the possibility – and she made it out of the building safely, not stopping in her fast pace as she went in the direction of home.

The whole time, her mind kept replaying whatever had just happened over and over again and the mental images of it made her eyes burn so much that heavy streams of tears fell, completely washing her in painful humiliation. This was by far the most mortifying thing she’d ever encountered on her journey. Even all the laughs and sneers she got didn’t hold a candle to this. This was just absolute rock bottom.

She hated it. She hated that it had to happen to her. She hated that she thought she was close to achieving something for the hotel and it just led to this.

That was it. She didn’t want to do this anymore. She didn’t want to try anymore. If trying only led to more degradation coming for her, she’s throwing in the towel right here and then.

All she wanted now was to just go home and be safe from this absolutely cruel world.

* * *

“It simply amazes me how free the scum of the Earth walk. Doesn’t it, Husker?”

Husk only gave the man cynical eyes, confused by the sudden remark from Alastor, who’d been people-watching the speakeasy’s guests. “You seriously telling me that?” he replied, putting away a glass he’d been cleaning dry. “If anyone’s scum, it’s you, it’s me, and it’s everyone else sitting in this here joint.”

“And yet, here we all are,” Alastor drawled whimsically, watching the scotch in his tumbler as he swirled it around. “Enjoying our lives, drinking to our heart’s content. Not a care in the world for if our vices finally catch up to us.”

Husk only kept quiet, unsure of how to answer. He wasn’t much of a talker usually, even more so with Alastor, so it’ll sometimes take him off-guard when the creep gets all like this, because of some inner sentimentality he had hidden or because that was his third helping of scotch. Whatever it was, it was way too unusual of the already-unusual man to Husk, and it didn’t help that his ever-present grin only added on to the oddity of the situation.

But then he was suddenly interrupted with the appearance of a bald fat guy taking a seat on the barstool, who hissed in pain as he settled himself there. Husk turned to him instead, leaving Alastor to his drink.

“What’ll you have, _mac_?” Husk asked in his best bartender serving voice, sounding bored at best.

“Pint of your best draft,” he grumbled, looking almost in pain while he did.

Husk filled out a pint to the brim and set it in front of the guest, and he realised that he was massaging his crotch area, quickly weirding Husk out. “Hey pal, this ain’t exactly a voyeur club,” he snapped, disturbed by the disgusting sight. “You mind doing that elsewhere?”

“You ever got fucking kicked in the balls with a heel?” the man spat, spittle flying but not landing anywhere on Husk. “You try and sit if you did.”

“Hell did you do to get that?”

A grumble as he picked up his glass and chugged. “Just propositioned some _twist_ to _make whoopee_ in exchange for help in some stupid idea she had. The bitch _got lathered_ and threw my prized paperweight onto my _dogs_ before her foot flew to the _moneybags_.”

“Well, ain’t that some shit,” Husker chuckled, unable to help finding the _nudnik_ ’s pain amusing now that he’s heard it. “The _bim_ ’s must’ve been a real good kicker.”

The man wasn’t amused at how Husk was finding the situation funny, but he’s not about to pick a fight here, not with the strict rules of the joint that the _Whisper Sister_ upstairs enforced about that. He just continued casually with the conversation, saying, “Think her name’s Carol or something. Something Magne.”

Husk had been uninterested in the _jive_ until his attentions were suddenly caught by the loud sound of glass hitting the polished wooden bar-top. While the fella was chugging down the remains of his pint, Husk turned to look at the only other person at the bar, and his brows furrowed at seeing Alastor.

To anyone else, he was just sitting still and quietly, but Husk knew Alastor long and well enough to know that something was off. He was side-eyeing the new guest with a look as cold and hard as steel, and his fingers almost clenched the glass so hard that he could possibly break it in his grasp. But what gave things away were his lips. Alastor’s grin was absent, only a close-lipped smile now, but it was pressed into a hard-thin line that – only added with the look in his eyes and the tenseness of his body – was unmistakably showing dark intent.

Husk knew this look all too well.

This was a look to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler Alert: Are you all ready for a BLOODY good time in the next chapter? Because I know Alastor is!
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope and wish to all of you dear readers that your 2020 will be 20/20 (HA!) and many good things will be in store for you in this new decade! I send to all of you my love and well-wishes. It's coming to you, and you can't stop it! 😄
> 
> Once again, thank you all so much for your kind and VERY entertaining kudos and comments. It feeds my drive to write chapters quickly, so please feel free to drop in more!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Dincher - Half-smoked cigarette  
> Cut down - Murdered  
> Wet - Stupid  
> Sheba - Woman with sex appeal  
> Quiff - Cheap prostitute  
> Mac - Man  
> Bull Session - Male talkfest, gossip, stories of sexual exploits  
> Beeswax - Business  
> Croak - Kill  
> Alderman - Pot belly  
> Steam up - Get angry  
> Nookie - Sex  
> Twist - Woman  
> Make whoopee - Have sex  
> Got lathered - Got mad  
> Dogs - Feet  
> Nudnik - Stupid man  
> Bim - Girl  
> Whisper Sister - Female proprietor of a speakeasy  
> Moneybags - Testicles  
> Jive - Unpleasant talk


	8. Bloody John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: EXPLICIT VIOLENCE, BLOOD, AND MURDER

Alfonse hissed as he carefully pulled his _soupbone_ out of his unzipped trousers, still feeling the ache of the kick that little bitch gave. He was somewhat relieved when piss started streaming, glad that she may have not broken it as he feared. He internally cursed her, vowing to do her rotten should he ever see her again, prepared to teach her a lesson she’ll never forget.

His attentions were suddenly turned to the sound of the door to the gents opening, and he looked up briefly to see a brown-haired man with _cheaters_ making his way to the sinks, not paying him any mind as he straightened himself out. Alfonse looked away quickly, not wanting to look like some creep, and looked back down at his business.

Piss was slowing down, and once he was done, he gently shook it before preparing himself to put it back in his drawers, anticipating the pain of the ache once again.

But the pain he wasn’t expecting was a sudden crack against his skull, followed by a shower of sharp glass running down the side of his face.

“Fucking hell!” he shouted in shock, and he was suddenly pulled away from the urinal and facing the man that had just come in, but then he saw stars when he was suddenly _socked_ right in the eye. With no proper time to react, he fell hard on his back, cock still half out.

“Disgusting.” He heard the man mutter in a growl, and he was suddenly grabbed by the throat and pulled up against the wall, surprised at the sheer brute strength of the lean and slender man to be able to drag a heavyset. Through his one good eye, which hadn’t been good for long because he was punched there a mere few seconds later, he could only see the wild look in his eyes and the lips that were split wide open to show teeth in an almost maniacal grin.

The man gave him more blows to his face, and Alfonse was too incapacitated to fight back because each time he tried he just got knocked down more. He could only feel his face swelling up and bruising all over, and he wasn’t too sure if his jaws and nose were still intact.

Suddenly, the punching stopped and he was pulled forward by the hand on his neck towards the face of the smiling man. From what little he could see through the swells around his eyes, he could make out the man looking at him with a narrowed glare, and through the buzz of white noise that was the only thing he could hear now, he could make out a question.

“Did you touch her?”

Confused, he stuttered fearfully, “…W-W-W-What?...”

“You aren’t deaf, my good fellow,” the man seethed through his grin, voice dripping with venom. “I ask again; did you touch her?”

“…W-Who?... I-I-I don’t k-know who you’re t-t-talking ‘b-bout…”

Another hard punch to the face and Alfonse could feel his mouth pooling with blood, which he promptly choked out. His face was pulled closer to his attacker once more, and he could feel the hot air that he was seething out.

“The girl,” he snarled with pure malice, sounding more animalistic than ever. “The little ‘ _twist_ ’ you wanted to ‘ _make whoopee_ ’. Did. You. Touch. Her?”

Now he understood what he was talking about, but underneath the fear was utter confusion, wondering why’d that make any sense to now. But he was pulled out of thought when the man shook his head roughly, demanding an answer. Unable to think clearly in this terrifying moment, Alfonse half-choked his answer out.

“…H-h-her a-arm…”

Now that answer hit the nail for Alastor. Without a second’s hesitation, he got up and dragged the man by his chokehold towards one of the stalls in the bathroom, a sizeable shard of glass from the pint he used earlier in his attack – the same pint that the scumbag had drunk draft from, which Alastor nicked when Husk wasn’t looking before he followed him to the restroom – already brandished in his hand.

Alastor positioned the man so that he was kneeling over the _John_ , stepping around to tower over him from behind while still keeping a firm grip on his neck.

“ **PLEASE! I DIDN’T TOUCH HER ANYWHERE ELSE! I SWEAR! PLEASE LET ME GO! PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!** ”

He started struggling violently, enough to almost throw Alastor off-balance if he hadn’t forced his weight on the balls of his feet to keep himself grounded. Alastor’s other hand gripped the back of the man’s head to forcefully bludgeon his face on the seat of the toilet bowl.

The ragtime music from the stage was loud enough to overpower the man’s screams and shouts of pain, and Alastor had locked the door discretely when he came in. The crying was vibrating all throughout the enclosed restroom, and it sent pleasurable tremors running through his body.

Oh, how Alastor revelled in the screams of the weak. How he loved hearing them waste their final breaths begging for his mercy. He basked in the sight of himself holding their pathetic feeble bodies in his hands. He felt euphoric. He felt a high he could never get from anything else. He felt so powerful. How he marvelled at this staggering ability to have someone completely plead for his clemency. To lose himself completely to carnal desires that lingered within him. How thrilling it was! How it burned him deep within his core!

But the man can scream all he wanted.

He can beg for all he cared.

But nothing could save him now.

Not since he’s touched Miss Charlie Magne.

Not since he’s laid his filthy paws on the precious skin that’s meant to be _his_.

With that disgusting thought in mind, Alastor lifted the man’s chin just so his fat neck could be widely exposed, and placed the tip of the shard to the jugular. The scumbag thrashed and squealed like a wild pig and struggled with all his might, but Alastor’s hold was stronger, keeping his head in place.

And with a skill so honed by time and expertise, he slowly slid the glass through fat skin across the neck, watching the fresh crimson blood spray out messily all over the toilet, and watching as the man who fought and struggled so hard slowly die out before his very eyes.

Alastor stayed that way for a while, only watching the blood flow, and only released the man when the flow stopped, letting the lifeless body slump to the restroom floor and dropping the shard of glass as well. He stepped backward out of the stall, his eyes never leaving the sight of the mess he had made – amazed how he didn’t get any of the blood of himself, much to his relief. He breathed heavily, feeling the pounding of his heart resonating through him, and his consciousness slowly returned to full composure. He smiled to himself curiously, reminiscing all that had happened in just the past few minutes. The excitement in him, though, did not diminish. It only grew more at the thought of the catalyst.

 _…Oh, Charlie…_ his thoughts were almost like a prayer. _...How you do wonders for me…_

Sudden sharp knocks that sounded at the door were what finally pulled his attention back to reality, and he could hear Niffty call out from the other side, “Mister Al? Can we come in now?”

Alastor took one look in the mirror to see the mess he’d made of himself, which frankly wasn’t much since he’d been careful to make the blood spill away from him, so he was practically spotless. He only needed to readjust his bowtie and smooth back his messy hair before he went to the door.

Upon unlocking, he was immediately shoved back inside by Husk gripping him by the collar – the bartender was very aware of the man’s dislike of being touched by others, so he at least respected that – and snarled in his face, “I swear to God, if it isn’t because you’re Rosie’s favourite, I would have _bum-rushed_ you out of this joint myself the minute I knew.”

Niffty locked the door again behind them, telling some fella outside who attempted to come in that it was closed for cleaning, and stood to the side watching the exchange between the two men. Alastor only chuckled not-so-apologetically.

“Apologies for the extra duties I have for you two, my friend.”

Husk swore out loud and rubbed his face in irritation, wondering to himself why he would ever bother about this man who just gave him splitting headaches as worse as hangovers. And speaking of hangovers, how he wished he had a drink right now, much preferring to get shitfaced than deal with the shit that he had to face. But he knew couldn’t go back to the bar yet – even if he was to just were to fuck off right there and then, he knew Rosie wouldn’t be happy if he didn’t help out, and he’s indebted to her for giving him a job, a place to stay and free booze, so she’s had him wrapped around her little finger too.

Resigning to this situation, he merely sighed, and asked, “So, where is he?”

Alastor nonchalantly pointed to one of the stalls, to which Husk followed, and immediately jumped at the sight.

“ **JESUS _FUCKIN’_ CHRIST!!!**” Husk yelled out loud when he laid eyes on the scene inside the stall. “ **YOU ABSOLUTELY _CHIVVED_ HIM, YOU PSYCHOTIC _CRACKJOB_!**”

“Ah, well, it simply had to be done!” Alastor replied, almost a bit too enthusiastically for taste.

“And why exactly did it had to be done?” Husk asked, stepping away from the scene as Niffty went inside instead. Despite how livid he was that he had to do ‘clean-up duty’ at work, he wondered what had prompted Alastor to do this. Recalling the look he’d given the poor bastard at the bar, Husk knew that this was no random kill for the kick of it. This had a purpose, but what? All the _palooka_ had talked about was getting his chestnuts kicked by some girl-

Wait.

Husk eyed Alastor, who did not respond to his question and was just looking at himself in the mirror with thoughtful eyes. Husk knew that it’d be far-fetched to think that Alastor would do this over a girl. The man wasn’t the type to care about some _skirt_ , judging by how all of them ended up in his presence. Husk couldn’t even recall if there was even anyone that made Alastor feel something.

Yes, exactly. That’s just _over the edge_. Alastor must have done it for some other reason or even no reason. The man was so unexpected, after all.

“AAAHHH!”

Both men immediately turned in the direction of the scream to see Niffty emerging from the stall with an unhinged look of disgust.

“You could have at least made him decent first, Mister Al!” she yelled, pointing exasperatedly at the body. “I don’t wanna be cleaning up the mess with a _hot dog_ right in my face!”

Alastor laughed wholeheartedly and said an apology to Niffty, who only puffed her cheeks and crossed her arms, clearly making it clear that she wasn’t going to go near the body until something was done.

Without a skip, Alastor turned to Husk. “Handle it, Husker.”

“ **ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?** ”

* * *

The bayous were almost pitch-black, with the only light shining coming from the full moon high up above. Filling the air were the sounds of the creatures of the night. Crickets, toads, owls…

And alligators whose powerful jaws were snapping hard and loud to catch some good meat being thrown at them.

It had been quite a mess back at the speakeasy, something Rosie didn’t quite appreciate, scolding Alastor like he was a little boy about being a bit too reckless considering that there had been guests around. After Niffty did a good hard scrubbing of the restroom until it was practically spotless, they’d been able to sneak the body out with careful coordination to a spare room Rosie had in the back of her emporium, where most of the dirty work usually was done by the two.

Now all that’s left of the pig were chopped up bits and pieces, perfect for feeding time to the gators. Niffty seemed to almost be having fun tossing a part in the air and watching them jump out to snatch it in their deadly maws, and throwing it in the waters and watch them battle it out for one hunk of meat. She’d called this their ‘Water’ code, in fact.

Alastor sat away from the waters on a mossy rock, quietly smoking a cigarette as he watched his companions finish off the job. He remained quiet as Husk came to stand beside him, leaving the doll to finish up the rest, and pulled out his own _deck of Luckies_ from his inner jacket pocket.

“Got a light?” he asked, to which Alastor politely produced a lighter for his friend.

Husk took a long drag before blowing it out in a long stream of smoke, all while eyeing the quiet man beside him. He didn’t know why, but the thought he had in the restroom was still itching at him. Usually, he wouldn’t be so interested in why Alastor would make his kills – it was all the same, simply for the joy of it and to satisfy his ‘exotic’ palate. But this kill had a rationale, and Husk could only entertain the thought that it probably had something to do with the girl. If that were the case, then it would have been a first that the bartender had heard of the radio host.

“So… why’d you do what you did?” he couldn’t help himself to ask.

Alastor only chuckled and turned to look at Husk with a glint in his eyes. “Why does anyone do anything?” he replied in an overly enthusiastic tone. “Sheer, absolute, boredom!”

As much as the man wasn’t easy to read, he wasn’t easy to get a straightforward answer out of either, and so Husk only sighed and continued to smoke, giving up right away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys were so hyped on the last chapter that I simply was just itching to publish this one, so here you go! I have to say, I was really excited about this one, not only because we got to see the scumbag get what he deserved, but also because we finally got to explore Alastor in his darker side, and this duality of his is going to play a REAL big part in the future!
> 
> Can I just say that I have actually written the next 4 chapters in 1 sitting, and I absolutely do not regret it? The story's slowly starting to take shape, and I can't be more excited! This is going to be a rollercoaster ride everybody, so I hope you're ready for all sorts of twists and turns! 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for the kind and entertaining kudos and comments showing your support! Eveyrbody here is so entertaining and I just love to read every single one of your messages. I aim to please, and I hope I am doing it right for all of you! Please do take the time to drop in more kudos and comments to feed my excitable author soul! Much love and appreciation!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Soupbone - Penis  
> Cheaters - Glasses  
> Socked - Punched  
> Twist - Girl  
> Make whoopee - Have sex  
> John - Toilet  
> Bum-rushed - ejection by force from an establishment  
> Chivved - Cut  
> Crackjob - Psychopath  
> Palooka - Stupid man  
> Skirt - Woman  
> Over the edge - Crazy, insane  
> Hot dog - Penis  
> Deck of Luckies - Pack of cigarettes


	9. The Littlest Comforts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same

Charlie slowly blinked her eyes open, immediately seeing the stream of sunlight that was pouring through her window. She sat up slowly and stretched, feeling decent until almost immediately the memories of yesterday came flooding.

A sick heavy feeling hit her gut, and she mustered the strength to calm her heart to not race and let it get to her again. It had been haunting her the entire night, eating her away that she could do nothing else but curl up in her bed and just stay there, wanting to hide. Her hand lingered to her arm, and she felt sicker at the remembrance of the grubby hand touching her there.

She turned to her side to see Vaggie still sound asleep. Her best friend had stayed with her in her room the whole night, holding her as she cried and cried and cried, refusing to leave her alone. She’d been furious, half-tempted to storm out to find the scumbag and give him more than a kick to the family jewels, and was insistent that Charlie informed someone about it, which she promised to do come morning. Despite how low she’d felt, she was so grateful for Vaggie. At least she knew that her best friend was there to care so much to want to protect her.

Not wanting to wake her, Charlie quietly slipped out of bed, putting on a robe and her slippers before heading down to get started on breakfast. She didn’t really feel hungry, but she hadn’t eaten since she’d gotten back and was feeling quite sick on her empty stomach. She supposed some tea could help her.

But just as she got down to the bottom of the stairs, there was a knock on the door. She wondered who exactly could it be so early in the morning, and went to open the door just a crack to peep through.

She almost slammed the door shut when she saw Alastor standing there.

“Morning, dear!” he greeted brightly

“Oh, Alastor!” she squeaked, hiding behind the door in embarrassment that she was only dressed in her robe and nightclothes. “Good morning.”

Charlie didn’t know what to say next, still shy that she was not really looking her best right now. And Alastor seemed to have realised that, judging from the way he was looking at her with a concerned smile.

”Rough night?”

She still said nothing, only nodding.

“I take it the meeting didn’t go as well as you’d hoped?”

The memory of that disgusting man hit her fresh in her mind once more and she could feel hot bile rising up her throat at the sick thought of it. But she forcefully swallowed the burning feeling down, not wanting to make a scene in front of Alastor.

“Horrible, actually… I don’t really want to talk about it…”

Alastor had looked like he wanted to ask about it, but he didn’t, much to Charlie’s relief. She didn’t think she had it in her to tell him about it, thinking of how shameful it would have made her look to him.

“Hmm, that’s a shame,” he mused. “I brought you this as a token of congrats.”

Charlie looked up and to her surprise, there was a single daisy in his hand, looking small and dainty but otherwise pretty in full bloom.

“Oh, Alastor, you didn’t have to… Thank you so much,” she spoke softly with a blush as she received the flower from him.

“Think nothing much of it, dear,” he waved his hand nonchalantly. “I only hope this makes you feel better, at least. Gotta stay sharp for that hotel of yours, anyway!”

Thinking about the hotel only brought the feeling of dread, and she immediately felt like a _crumb_ all over again. Alastor quirked his head in concern.

“To be _square_ , I think I should just want to take a little break from the hotel business for just a bit…”

“Well, you can take it as a token of ‘never giving up’ then!” he said enthusiastically. “Whatever happened, happened. But I’m sure it isn’t going to stop someone with a spirit like _Chicago lightning_ such as yourself!”

Charlie looked at him then and blushed at seeing how soft he was being to her right now. That took her back to yesterday when they’d been standing at the pavement and he had tucked her hair and looked at her with so much adoration at how much she was so intent on her mission. It made her feel warm and more at ease, knowing that there was at least one more person who was good to her.

With a soft smile, he reached a hand out to grip her chin gently, tilting her head up so that she would look at him. She kept quiet, but she did not recoil from his touch. If anything, she only found comfort in this little ministration. So much so that a small smile finally came to her lips.

“Chin up, darling. And keep smiling. It suits you more.”

* * *

Charlie was alone in what’s meant to be her office in the hotel, although now it’s quite barren with just a desk and a single chair. She was just sitting at the desk, staring at the half-written letter she had been occupied with writing.

It had been a few days since the incident, and it had made her feel too discouraged to go back to the hotel, seeing the building as a representation of how all her efforts had been in vain. But she knew she couldn’t run away from it. Not when Daddy had already put in so much _greens_ to procure the place in the first place.

And speaking of Daddy, she was unsure of how to write out the issue in the letter that she’d been trying to pen to her parents. As promised to Vaggie, she did plan to tell them about it. She had gone to the police first, but they couldn’t do much since there hadn’t been an instance of anywhere close to rape having occurred. Vaggie had been very mouthy at the _copper_ who had told them that, which only led to Charlie being forced to pull her out of the station before things could get messier for themselves. So, the only choice now was to tell her parents, and she wasn’t sure what much could be done if she did, but it would at least allow them to be aware of her well-being.

There was a knock on the door, which pulled Charlie out of deep thought. “Come in,” she called out, and Angel Dust entered.

“Hey there, toots. Just checking to see how you doin’.”

Charlie had told him about what happened when he commented about how she’d been gone longer than usual, and while he laughed at hearing what she did to the pig, he did seem genuinely worried at the more nitty-gritty parts, which she appreciated the thought.

“I’m doing alright,” she replied, a barely-there smile. As Angel approached, he looked at her incredulously, clearly not buying it.

“Hmm, no you ain’t,” he said casually. He took a seat on the edge of her table, and Charlie immediately felt bad that she had not put up an extra chair in her office to offer him. But Angel didn’t seem to mind, instead seeming natural at where he was sitting.

“It’s still bothering you, huh?”

He didn’t need to say it for her to understand, and she sighed and nodded. “Yes, it still does.”

An awkward silence ensued. Angel and Charlie did not look at each other, him to the floor and her to her half-written letter. It was quite stifling, but Angel didn’t know how to broach the subject without potentially hurting her feelings more.

Unable to take the tension, he got off the desk and pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his pockets. “Mind if I take a light?” he asked politely, though he wasn’t expecting a ‘yes’.

Charlie was about to say ‘no’ since they were in the hotel and should be abiding by the rules and regulations that had been put into place. But she didn’t find it in her heart to care about that for the moment, and she didn’t want to upset her unexpected company.

“Alright, but just this once and no more,” she warned in a whisper. “And don’t you go telling Vaggie about it.”

“Gotcha,” he winked cheekily, going to the window behind her to crack one open and sit on the sill. Charlie went to join him there, and he offered a drag from his cigarette, and she held up her hands and shook her head in refusal.

“Ya know, I get how you’re feeling,” he suddenly remarked, blowing out smoke as he did. “When that happens to me, a good smoke’s enough to calm the nerves.”

Charlie was aware of the sort of treatment that Angel Dust would subject himself to for ‘work’, evidential in all the mornings he would come home with fresh bruises and bite marks. She’d been respectful enough to never bring it up to him, not wanting any scathing replies to her nosiness. But she couldn’t help but ask now, “How do you handle it? All that sort of treatment? Doesn’t it hurt you?”

Angel scratched the back of his head, trying to come up with an answer. “Ah, well, can’t say it didn’t hurt the first time. Felt like a low sack of shit from whatever they have done and did to me. Even cried myself to sleep.”

“That’s terrible...”

An indifferent shrug as he stared thoughtfully at his cigarette. “Well, I have to. If it means making the dough. All that _bushwa_ comes with the job sometimes, or most of the time. And the industry’s full of ‘em, whether it’s the _Big Cheese_ s running it or the _cat_ s paying for it. So I just got used to it.” Another pull of his cigarette and another exhale of smoke, and he pointed to her sternly. “Word of advice, doll? This world’s full of ‘em assholes and scumbags who’s just gonna step on you just ‘cause they think they can. And it isn’t gonna stop, especially if you go about with that goody-goody look of purity and innocence you have going on.”

Charlie began thinking of everything she had to go through since first taking off from home for this project, and all that she could remember was failure after failure, all the laughing and sneering and jeering. And not to forget, that little incident with Angel. She wondered how she’d been able to power through all of that the first few times, how she could just remain so positive, and how quickly that determination broke.

“So what should I do, Angel?” she pleaded desperately. “I don’t know what to do.”

Flicking the finished cigarette out the window, Angel turned to look at her and promptly put his hands on his hips. “That’s where your pride goes on the line, and you ain’t supposed to be giving them the satisfaction to see you being a _weak sister_ about it. Keep your head up high and your ego higher. Keep doing that, and you’ll make it natural enough that ain’t nobody’s gonna be able to hurt you anymore.”

Angel’s words sunk deep into Charlie, and she was suddenly engulfed with so much conflict in her heart but even more so by the sort of strength he was projecting onto her. How he could be so brash yet so wise. Unable to bear how overwhelming the moment was, she felt tears well up in her eyes, and she covered her face and let herself cry.

Angel immediately stilled, unsure of what to do at the sight of the doll crying. He hesitated for a moment, almost thinking to up and leave, but he didn’t want to be an ass, not when she was like this. With a sigh, he rubbed his face exasperatedly.

“Uhh… Look, this is only gonna happen once, and don’t you go _bump gum’s_ about it. I got a reputation to uphold.”

Charlie looked up from her hands in confusion to see through her tears Angel looking away in embarrassment and having his long arms outstretched. She was immediately taken by surprise at seeing the usually aloof guy actually inviting her in for a hug.

“Are you being serious right now?” she asked in a shocked sniffle, to which he only nodded once tersely. At that, she couldn’t help but smile and giggle at the oddity of the scene, but finding it so very endearing that it immediately lightened her heavy heart. “Oh Angel, I didn’t know you were such a softie,” she teased, wiping away her tears.

“Keep _chinning_ and I’m going to pretend this never happened,” he grumbled, but she saw the hint of a blush forming on his pale cheeks. Charlie chuckled, and got off the sill to walk right into his waiting arms, wrapping her own around his slim frame as he did the same. He seemed to have tensed for a moment, unsure of how to react or feel, but gradually she felt him relax and even started patting her back lightly. She was surprised at how comfortable hugging Angel was, how he was so soft and warm despite his prickly exterior, and she was flattered that he was willing to let her in to this hidden side of himself.

After what felt like a while, he pulled her away, and she respectfully stepped back to let him straighten himself up vainly.

“Hey, enough of this sad talk,” he chirped, looking out the window. “It’s a beautiful day outside, let’s head out! Staying cooped up in here probably doing a _downer_ on you.”

“It is a lovely day, isn’t it?” she agreed, looking out the window at the bright blue sky and the warm Sun. “You know what, you’re right. Let’s go out.”

Angel practically jumped at the thought of heading out, amusing Charlie at seeing him so excited. “Just let me finish up here first,” she told him as she got back to her desk.

“Sure, sure. I’ll let the _bearcat_ know about it.”

Charlie shook her head in gentle exasperation as she watched him leave the room _gayly_. Turning back to her letter, she read through it one more time and decided that it would just be best to finish it later after she got some much-needed fresh air. She folded it in half neatly and reached for her purse on the floor, getting out her little pocketbook to store the letter in. When she opened it, the first thing that greeted her sight was a little daisy, all dried up and flattened but nonetheless still very pretty to look at.

She picked it up gingerly and twirled it in her fingers, and what - or who - came to mind then was its giver, and the memory of his soft smile only brought one to Charlie’s own lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alastor, Vaggie and Angel are the true 'Charlie Protection Squad', Alastor being so sweet to Charlie makes my heart explode, Angel's truly the epitome of 'hooker with a heart of gold', and it's about time there's a bit of Charlie-Angel bonding times. So here's a lot of fluff to soften the violent blows we've had last chapter! But lo my dear readers, this fluff's gonna stick around for a bit! Can you guess why? 😁 
> 
> Also! I got an interesting question in the comments last chapter about Alastor's preferences in both his victims and meal preparations, so I just thought I'd share it with you guys too to give you a better idea of my headcanon of Alastor in this story;
> 
> Alastor has kind of an 'apex predator' mentality when it comes to killing, seeing himself as someone who is completely above others, being in line with HH canon info that he's a narcissist. So he generally has a preference to murder someone he sees as weaker than him (which is mostly everyone around him, to be honest). But he's also a careful killer, and he's not reckless to target someone with a big name or reputation in order to remain completely inconspicuous, unless he has a very good reason to do so and a good alibi to avoid suspicion.  
> As for food-wise, he generally is alright with eating the flesh of any of his victims (but has a liking to tender and supple 'meat'), but he will not eat those who he finds repulsive, such as the scumbag. He practically loves to incorporate this unique 'ingredient' into his favourite French-Creolean dishes (when he cooks he has like a Mads Mikkelsen's Hannibal Lecter finesse to it).
> 
> As always, thank you so much everyone for your excitable kudos and comments! The last chapter's been like wildfire and it made me literally explode with feels to see all of you enjoy it! Your kindness keeps me going on overdrive to write out more quality content so please feel free to drop in more and bless me with more feels! Love you all!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Crumb - Hopeless  
> Square - Honest  
> Chicago lightning - Gunfire  
> Greens - Money  
> Copper - Police  
> Bushwa - Bullshit  
> Big Cheeses - Someone of importance and influence  
> Cats - Men  
> Weak sister - Pushover  
> Bump gum's - To talk about nothing worthwhile  
> Chinning - Talking  
> Downer - Depressing feeling  
> Bearcat - Very fiery and vivacious girl  
> Gayly - Happily


	10. Opportunity Comes Knocking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same

‘Patience is a virtue’, and Alastor was nothing if not a patient man.

But he couldn’t help but feel slightly frustrated at the thought of how the chance to get a good one-on-one with little Miss Charlie Magne next door had not come to him. They’ve had glimpses of each other as often as neighbours should, with exchanges of ‘good morning’ or ‘hello’ or ‘good day’ or whatever other pleasantry nonsense one would say to their neighbour.

It was dull, and it made Alastor itch internally with agitation that did not taint his usual smiling facade. He did not want the thrill of the hunt to die out before it could truly begin.

Well, he had several instances, when they were sitting together on her front porch where she’d been looking to almost bust out the waterworks - and it had been quite the tingle for him to indirectly express such desires he held for her - and the little walk to downtown they had recently where she showed how daring she could be - which, admittedly, exhilarated him at seeing the glimpse of ferocity he didn’t know she had in her. But that hadn’t been much progress to get closer to her, since all they’d talk about was that laughable ‘rehabilitation hotel’ idea she had for _hoods_ , which was probably why she was constantly out of the house and nowhere to be seen until late.

And the latest encounter at her doorstep, which had been an impulse on Alastor’s part. He had half the thought to not approach her that morning, considering it mostly unnecessary, but thinking of the man having touched her gave him an inkling of the want to make sure she was at least alright, even bringing a little daisy to liven things up. That, and also because of how maliciously driven he was by the thought that somebody had already copped a feel of her before he could. He may not have shown it, but it bothered Alastor greatly recalling how glum she had looked, absolutely nothing like the lively and passionate _dame_ that had been so bold to stand up to him and stand her ground on her beliefs for that hotel of hers, making him marvel at her fervour.

But now she had looked like she just simply wanted to cower away from the world. It had been disgusting him at seeing her remarkable dimpled grin that he had come to adore absent. And what had happened to the doll only urged him for the chase even more, before any other unexpected ‘circumstances’ could happen.

But Alastor was a patient man, and it had still been a tad too early for him to _get a wiggle on_.

Charlie Magne was no mere quick game he could just pick off the streets like all the others, he had ascertained that. There was something about her that he needed to experience for himself, something about her smile that he wanted to relish in before he could have the chance to have her in his mercy. But even if the sight of her stirred excitement in him, he chose not to follow her and force the situation - he held a strict ethical code against such an act which he found to be too disgusting for his liking.

No, he wanted - no, needed - her to be open to him, to be attracted to come to him, like a moth drawn to a flame, completely on her own accord and wholeheartedly. All he needed was that opportunity for a push in the right direction, and only then can the fun truly begin.

As the saying goes; the early bird catches the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

And sure enough, he does get his cheese.

It was another one of his off days when the bright Sun warmed up New Orleans comfortably for Alastor to want to take a leisurely walk down by the Mississippi River. In the busy town, he strolled tall with a light stride, tipping his fedora off to anyone who had recognised him on the streets and called out the radio host by name. There had been a few gals that were gutsy enough to come up to him and tempt him to join them for a drink, which he promptly refused politely, much to their utter disappointment (which he enjoyed discreetly).

And speaking of drinks, he had worked up quite a thirst to make patronage to a quaint little café along the street that served the most exquisite chicory coffee around, appreciating how tucked away this little joint was from the busy main walkways and how it was never too full that he’d be able to people-watch casually as he enjoyed his drink.

But that peace was broken when a loud scuffle caught his attention, making him pause in taking a sip of his steaming cup of joe while his eyes glazed over to the commotion, which came from across the street.

Well, he’ll be damned.

Alastor doesn’t believe in the existence of any high celestial power. If there were one, they clearly weren’t doing a good job of not turning the world into an ever-evolving state of chaos, especially in its inhabitants such as the likes of himself. But at this moment, he’d be willing to maybe believe that there could some otherworldly force at play here if they’ve given him such damn good luck to find the current subject of his ‘affections’ before his very eyes.

Miss Charlie Magne, whom he would have been absolutely elated to see if it weren’t for the fact that she seemed to be in a bit of a tight spot. She was with that little _pachuca_ friend of hers and some other _bird_ that he had never seen before, and all of them were in a very verbal exchange with a couple of fellows, one who seemed to have a broken nose. Vaggie and the other person seemed just about ready to _paste_ if it wasn’t for Charlie who was holding them back.

There was no trace of a smile on her lips, and it seemed that those thugs were ready any second to lay a hand on them, her included.

Now that struck a fierce chord in him, and the thought of some lowlife touching and tainting the skin he would mark for himself released a sort of animalistic drive in him, akin to the one that pushed him for the kill on that fat bastard a few nights prior. Seeing the possibility of another touching her before he could made him ready to get up to them and tear out an entire arm right there and then if needed.

But one wouldn’t have been able to tell unless one looked carefully past the tight smile his lips were pressed into as he got up and promptly made his way to the scene. And it was a good thing he acted immediately, because the two _rubes_ were about to close in if he hadn’t swiftly stepped in front of the trio to block them.

“Alastor?!” he heard Charlie cry out behind him.

“Well, well! Don’t you young gentlemen know that it’s impolite to treat a couple of ladies like that? Where are your manners?’

“ _Take the air_ , _bruno_!” one of them spat in his face. “If ya know what’s good for ya!”

But instead of backing off or fighting back in return, Alastor simply laughed.

“Hahahaha, oh no, no. I really do believe that it wouldn’t be wise on your part.”

If looks could kill, then the glint in Alastor’s eyes was downright murderous. He only looked down at the two ruffians with the smile never faltering once, instead seeming to grow with a terrifying underlying maliciousness. And that had been enough to make the two pause, chills running down their spines. They didn’t know why, even if the smiling man was just talking, they were so overwhelmed with intimidation from the dangerous intent that pooled in his eyes and dripped from his grin.

“Now,” Alastor began in a low drawl. “How about you two _dangle_ , if _you_ know what’s good for _you_.”

And just like that, the _rubes_ backed off, step by step, before turning and hightailing out of the scene. Alastor kept watching until they were out of his sights before he turned directly to Charlie.

“You alright, darling?” His grin was softening at the sight of her still stunned by what had happened.

“Oh my goodness, Alastor… I’m…”

The fellow that was with them (a very girlish-looking fellow, Alastor noticed), piped in, “HAHA! Thanks for the help, _Big Six_. You definitely had those pansies running for the hills.”

Only then did Charlie regain her composure, gently pushing aside Vaggie, who was holding her in worry but eyeing him warily, and came right up to him. “Alastor! Thank you so much for helping us! I don’t know what we’d do if you didn’t step in!”

With a mere nonchalant shrug, he chuckled modestly. “It’s the least I can do, Miss Charlie. Wouldn’t want them laying a hand on you.”

 _Yessiree, couldn’t let them lay a hand on you at all…_ he thought grimly. _I already had one bastard to deal with, and if anyone’s going to have a touch of you, it’s_ me _._

Charlie shook her head in disagreement. “Oh no, at least let me repay you. How about I treat you to dinner, as thanks?”

At that, Vaggie’s eyes widened in reluctance, the guy friend of theirs perked up excitedly, and Alastor blinked in surprise.

He did not expect that. Not at all. He thought that this was probably just some simple gesture of courtesy for helping out, not really expected to be taken up on. But the genuine look in her bright eyes said otherwise, and Alastor found that all the more amusing. Even more than the other _broads_ who tried to do the same just now. _Well, isn’t she full of surprises…_ he thought to herself, charmed by her sudden boldness to offer such an invitation but flattered nonetheless.

And like any sensible man, he wasn’t one to not snatch up opportunity when it came knocking on his door.

He took her hand in his, hearing her take a sharp intake of breath as he bowed slightly so that his eyes levelled with hers, taking absolute pride at seeing her blush once again. With a pleased smirk, he replied, “Well, I’d be a complete _dumbbell_ if I said ‘no’. I’d absolutely love to, doll.”

But, of course, _Bug-Eyed Betty_ had to _get in a lather_ about this. Promptly after he accepted the invitation, Charlie was immediately pulled by the arm into a private discussion with her friend, whose face showed definite disapproval at the thought of having her be alone with him, and she was clearly trying to dissuade Charlie from doing so.

This little act of defiance caused the nerves in him to twitch. He had been a patient man in waiting for the next chance to be alone with Charlie, and he absolutely did not want her little friend to ruin that for him. An urge in him wanted to simply whisk her away before she could even think to change her mind with the other’s influence.

No, he won’t do that. That would make the implication that he seemed too needy, and he would never give anybody, especially not _bluenose_ there, the satisfaction. He opted to just stand aside politely, hands tucked behind his back as he watched the exchange patiently.

But to his relief, any possibilities of Charlie changing her mind was immediately shot down when he heard her say reassuringly, “Oh, Vaggie, please don’t be silly... It’s just dinner, nothing more. It’s the least I can do for Alastor.”

His grin widened, but then Vaggie gave him a look, which he felt the need to comment.

“If it suits well with you, Miss Vaggie, I’ll make sure that Miss Charlie gets back to her front door tonight in one piece.”

As much as she was an annoyance to him now, Alastor still prided himself on being the gentleman he always made sure to be, and at least this also helped in getting Charlie to give her a friend a reassuring nod, further giving him the satisfaction that the odds are in his favour.

Before the _pachuca_ could get one word out in retort, a hand gingerly slapped itself over her mouth, and the other friend that had been with them, whom Alastor hadn’t been giving any mind to, suddenly cut in with a wide suggestive grin. “Sounds _jake_ , _sheik_! Wouldn’t want to hold you two any longer. Cheers!”

Whoever this fellow was, Alastor would have sure loved to give him a pat on the back and a good handshake for helping him out. But before he could consider, the stranger had immediately grabbed Vaggie by the shoulders and rushed off with her, any sound of protest coming from her fading off into the distance until they were out of sight. Charlie only watched the scene in confusion, before noticing a crooked elbow being offered to her by the smiling man.

“Now, my dear, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST AND FOREMOST! I really want to dedicate a HUGE shoutout to Manekinari for her absolutely stunning artwork of Alastor with a daisy, inspired by the previous chapter! When I first laid eyes on it, I simply couldn't look away from how beautiful she created Alastor. His gaze was so magnetic and his smile so intense, it really pulled me in and seriously took my breath away (and sent my little fangirl heart ablaze!) (This is the reason why I risk being a potentially easy victim for Alastor HAHA!) Please, please, please do show your love and support for her and her gorgeous works on her Instagram @Manekinari_Artwork or her Twitter @Manekinari ! 
> 
> Alas! More fluff as promised is coming your way, dear readers, because it looks like Alastor and Charlie are about to embark on their first date?! Yes! This chapter was originally supposed to be Chapter 6, but I felt that it would have rushed in too quickly to set the ship sailing, and I'm more than happy with the revision of the story's flow. I hope you all brushed your teeth and ain't going to risk getting a cavity, because the next chapter's definitely gonna be all too sweet! (Or will it? Hmm...)
> 
> To Manekinari and all of you, my dear lovely readers, I cannot say enough how much I appreciate all the love and support you have shown for this story. I certainly didn't expect it to have so much fanfare as it would now, and I am so grateful and thankful for all of you for sending me good vibes to work on chapters as fast and intense as Chicago lightning! Please do feel free to drop in kudos and comments which will always be read with a lot of love! Thank you, thank you, thank you! ❤️
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Hoods - Criminals  
> Get a wiggle on - To make a move  
> Pachuca - Female Mexican living in America (A/N: Not correct as Vaggie is Salvadoran!)  
> Bird - Person  
> Paste - Punch  
> Take the air - Get lost  
> Bruno - Tough guy  
> Dangle - Leave  
> Rubes - Unsophisticated people  
> Big Six - Tough guy  
> Broads - Women  
> Dumbbell - Idiot  
> Bug-Eyed Betty - Unattractive woman  
> Get in a lather - Throw a fuss  
> Bluenose - Prude  
> Jake - Great  
> Sheik - A man with sex appeal


	11. Down in New Orleans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same

“I hope you can excuse Vaggie,” Charlie said apologetically. “The dear just worries about me a lot.”

“Quite understandable, doll. Especially after quite the scuffle back there. However did you manage to find yourself in such a _jam_?”

“Oh. goodness, not me. It was Angel Dust, our friend back there. He had run into trouble with those two when we first met him. They must have seen us today and I guess they still had a bone to pick with us since Vaggie punched one of them in the _button_ the last time!”

Charlie giggled then, covering her mouth bashfully but not so much that Alastor couldn’t see the dimples of her smile. He watched the blonde who was holding on to his arm gingerly as they walked together along the Mississippi River, knowing how she had a bundle of nerves in her at being alone with him, but did not seem to mind it, which pleased him greatly.

“But really, thank you so much for helping us. It’s a miracle that you were around, or else it could have been really bad.”

“My pleasure, darling. As I said, I couldn’t let them even try to lay a hand on you.” _Not if I’m going to be the one for that matter…_

“What were you doing nearby anyway?” Charlie looked at him with her eyes narrowed, but she was smiling cheekily. “I don’t suppose you’ve been following me, have you?”

He knew that she was playing some _gas_ on him, but if Alastor wasn’t such a guarded man, he would have stalled at the implication that he may have been caught in the act. But time and experience have shaped him to brush off anything so casually and calmly that it made him so insusceptible to a lot of things.

“Of course not, darling!” he laughed. “Just a mere coincidence, is all! Was lounging in the café nearby when all that ruckus started.”

“Ah, I see. Of course,” Charlie nodded and then turned her attention to the crowd around them. “My, it sure is busy right now. So what do you suppose we should have for dinner?

Alastor brought his hand to rub his chin in deep thought. “The question is; what’re you hankering for, doll? If I may suggest, I know this place in the French Quarter that serves up the most excellent jambalaya in New Orleans. Well, not as excellent as my dearest mother’s, but still enough to get your taste buds dancing like it’s Mardi Gras!”

Charlie looked at him in a slight bit of confusion. “Um… what is ‘jambalaya’?”

Alastor stopped in his tracks and looked at her in complete shock. “Miss Charlie! Don’t tell me you’ve never had the pleasure of tasting jambalaya?”

Sheepishly, she shook her head.

“Well, this just won’t do!” he exclaimed with his free arm out in comical exasperation. “You can’t say you truly lived in the Heart of the South that is New Orleans without trying jambalaya! Come now, darling! We must rectify that!”

His arm moved to release her hold on his elbow to snake around her waist, gripping it firmly as he led the way. He especially noticed how bright red her cheeks flushed then at the sudden ministration, and he _pos-i-lute-ly_ savoured that sight.

* * *

Charlie discovered that jambalaya was absolutely divine.

It was nothing like what she had ever eaten before, paling in comparison to all the fancy dinners she had been used to back home. The rice dish was a loud red harmony of distinct flavours in the admixture of meat, seafood, and vegetables, with spices that really got her tongue tingling for more. She was almost ashamed at how indulged in the dish she had been until she noticed Alastor watching her in delight, making her blush once again at the embarrassing thought of how piggy-like she must have been stuffing her face like that.

Alastor had paid for the meal even though she had protested about how she was supposed to be the one to be treating him. “Getting a chance to spend some time with you is enough of a treat for me, doll,” he told her with a wink.

 _Why did he have to say it that way?_ Charlie thought in a midst of shock and confusion, once again blushing furiously. Was that just her being nervous or was there something about him to elicit such a response from her several times? But to be very honest, was it really so bad that she didn’t seem to mind? More so, even flattered and shy that he did?

And to make matters all the more exciting as the thought was, Alastor did not seem to want to go yet. He had been shocked at how she had been in the city for at least a month now but have still yet to see it in all its glory, and so he insisted that she was to see much that New Orleans had to offer.

From there, he took her to famed sites, like Jackson Square to watch street ragtime performances that both of them couldn’t help but tap their _dogs_ to, and Café du Monde to get fresh hot pastries called beignets that were blanketed in thick coats of honey and powdered sugar it made Charlie sigh as though she had gone to sweet pastry heaven – Alastor had declined when she offered to let him have some, revealing how he wasn’t much into sweets. He even took her to ride the famous streetcars of New Orleans, allowing her to marvel at the sights they passed while he only watched with a big smile at how much of a tourist she looked at that moment. The whole time, Alastor took the lead through the busy streets, maneuvering swiftly so that they wouldn’t stay stuck in one place for too long, and Charlie could only hang on to his arm and hold on to her hat in exhilaration as they _ankled_ from place to place, drinking in the colourful environment all around her.

This little outing even got her knowing more about Alastor, since she hasn’t been able to the previous times before. She learned that Alastor was Louisiana-born-and-bred, knowing no other home outside The South, but choosing to stay even when he’d been offered work in places as far as New York – “There isn’t anywhere else that you can find jambalaya or the best jazz other than New Orleans, after all!” His love for the radio started with his late mother, who had told him that his talkative nature made him a shoo-in as a radio host, and who he reminisced was always singing to tunes that played on the house radio while she cooked up his favourite French-Creolean dishes, recipes of which he still remembered and made even now, revealing how he too was a big foodie, despite his lack of fondness for sweets.

When he asked about her in return, she too told him her story. She told him about how she had lived in several different states before settling in The South not too long ago in nearby Baton Rouge because of Daddy Lucifer’s many business exploits that required the family to travel constantly. She recounted how distasteful she had been with the meager expectations of being a socialite, where ‘all you do is just stand there and look pretty and fashionable with a bunch of _Ms. Grundys_ ', and how her passion for social work began with her mother, who herself was involved and active in many charities and still a well-rounded social butterfly. She had been mostly home-schooled in her youth but had gone to university to get herself a degree in social services, possible only because Lucifer refused to have her go uneducated and he had the funds and means to give her the opportunity. Being in New Orleans marked her first time living independently.

“So you’ve never been on your own before?” Alastor asked with genuine curiosity.

“Not at all,” Charlie affirmed. “And have you been on your own for quite a while?”

Alastor nodded with a chuckle. “For about the past decade or so, yes.”

Their night around town ended with both of them standing alongside the Mississippi River, watching the brightly-lit riverboats go by on the dark waters, and feeling the breeze of the crisp night air. Music could be heard in the gentle breezes, becoming a soft background noise in the stillness of the night.

In that serene little moment, Charlie wondered when exactly had she taken the time to just go around exploring her new home ever since she had moved in, and she realised that it was practically never. The only times she had been out of the house was to run errands with Vaggie for home or the hotel or go to meetings with less-than-potential prospects for the hotel, with the last one having been a complete catastrophe.

In fact, the only thing she had ever been truly occupied with was just the hotel, which at this point seemed to be at a stalemate with no more progresses ever since Angel Dust moved in. The thought saddened her and brought a fear of whether the hotel would ever truly take off, or if it would just end up a failure like her father had expected. She wouldn’t know what to do if that were true, and she could only begin to question how she was going to recuperate from it.

But looking at New Orleans, seeing for the first time just how beautiful and magical and alive this city was, it somehow filled her with a sense of hope. It’s pretty strange at the thought of how she had chosen this place because of the staggering crime rates she had read about, but not of how lively it was that it seemed to be a world of its own in this big wide country. And seeing how happy everyone was, how their lives seemed to be filled with the simple joys of good food and music, she decided that no matter what happened, she would stick to what she had promised for herself and never give up hope for the Happy Hotel. If this was the life that criminals could work to achieve for themselves, then she will not stop in paving the way for them.

With a newfound hope, Charlie turned to the man beside her, surprised to find that he was already looking back with a soft smile.

Having long conversations and learning these little bits of Alastor, who up until now she only knew as simply just her neighbour and a radio host she listened to almost on the daily, warmed her to know that she could find a friend in him as well. She did owe it to him for helping her and her friends out earlier in the day, and it was thanks to him that she finally felt like she could breathe after having been so stressed with all the problems that had been plaguing her since her arrival in New Orleans. And not to mention all the little moments like his appearance at her doorstep the morning after the disastrous incident, which had seemed as though he somehow knew that she was in a dark place and reached for her if only to make her feel just the slightest bit better. Even after those strange conversations they’ve had before, he had been there to at least hear her out when he didn’t need to. He had only just been so kind and charming to her and she could not help but feel…

Oh.

Oh, dear.

Charlie could feel a sudden fluttering in her stomach, and she could feel her face going hot – God, she didn’t need to guess that the apples of her cheeks were probably blushing like mad right now. Unable to hold on to his gaze any longer, she nervously let out a giggle, covering half her face in an attempt to hide her growing blush. Alastor only tilted his head, brow quirked curiously.

“Alastor, is there anything interesting about me that just has you watching me this whole night?”

Alastor grinned with a soft chuckle, which looked to Charlie to be a shy response, making her turn away shyly too, unsure of how to handle these growing feelings she felt inside.

If only she knew what he was really thinking, about how, at this moment, he was pleased. More than pleased, in fact. Absolutely delighted that he knew that he nearly had her completely drawn in, how slowly she was letting herself be taken with her neighbour, and how close he was to relishing the moment to corner her and savour her in her entire little fragile form.

“Just everything about you, darling.”

Truly, it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You best believe I constantly listened to Disney's The Princess and The Frog soundtrack while writing this chapter and named it after the song itself! (Suggestion: Listening to 'Down in New Orleans' by Dr John really helps lift the mood of the chapter!)
> 
> If there's one thing Alastor loves more than murder, it's beautiful New Orleans, and Charlie's not only sharing in the love for her new home, but she's also starting to catch feelings for our beloved radio host? Good golly! Looks like Alastor's probably way ahead of ya, Charlie dear, although not exactly in the way you had expected! I hope this chapter has quenched some of the Charlastor thirst for all of you! Oh, if only the fluff could go on! But alas, dear readers, this is probably just the calm before the storm...
> 
> By the way, dear readers, I have a question for you! I've been contemplating creating a Discord server for this fic, since I see it as kind of a fun way for me to get to interact with all of you. I'm still a little confused about how it works, so I've just been sitting on the thought for a bit but I really do want to get a chance to connect better with you guys! Or maybe I should also open a Tumblr or Twitter page? Do let me know!
> 
> Thanks again so very much for all your lovely kudos and comments! As always, I appreciate each and everyone and read it with lots of love in my heart! Also, do ask any questions that you may have about the story and I'll do my best to answer! Looking forward to hearing more from all of you lovely people! 
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Jam - Tight spot  
> Button - Nose  
> Gas - Joke  
> Pos-i-lute-ly - Affirmative  
> Dogs - Feet  
> Ankled - Walked  
> Ms Grundy - Boring and uninteresting woman


	12. All Left & Hinky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

“Oh, come on, _Ms Grundy_. The babe’s fine. Live a little.”

That little comment earned a sideways glare from Vaggie, and Angel wondered if there was even anything in the world that could even remotely make her smile.

They were in a taxi on the way back to the hotel, much to his protests about how he was still bored and they should probably just keep _ankling_ around town looking for some fun, but as expected, the _wet blanket_ was against the idea, snapping back in annoyance, “If it hadn’t been for **your** suggestion to go out in the first place, we wouldn’t even run into those two _bozos_ , and Charlie wouldn’t be alone with that… that… creepy _hombre_!”

“Hey, I wasn’t the one to give that sucker a _kisser_ to the _schnozzle_ ,” Angel corrected in exasperation. “Besides, why’d you gotta _cast a kitten_ about Charlie going on a date? What’s the deal with Smiles back there anyway?”

That made Vaggie pause in her little _lather_ to eye him in surprise. “Wait, you seriously don’t know who that was? You’ve been around town longer than me.”

A confused shrug.

“Alastor Carlon? Supposedly the most popular radio host in all of New Orleans?”

“Eh, not big on the radio.”

An annoyed sigh, not wanting to go into unnecessary explaining. “He’s our neighbour when Charlie and I moved in, and there’s just something about him that’s all _left_ to me. I’ve seen the way he looks at her.”

“And how does he look at her?” Angel asked curiously.

Vaggie thought back to all the times she and Charlie had the unfortunate chance of bumping into him around the neighbourhood. While Charlie was never the type to not stop to say ‘hello’ and have a few kindly greetings with him (Vaggie never once said a word to him, fueled by personal undesire to), it was only after they walked away from him that Vaggie would look over her shoulder and get a glimpse of the man having a narrowed look in his eyes and his smile showing no presence of kindness but of something far more sinister. 

Vaggie was almost hesitant to answer, knowing it would definitely make her sound _over the edge_. But as much as it was absolute _crackers_ to say it, no better words can describe how she saw Alastor with that look at Charlie other than, “He looks like he wants to eat her.”

“Ooooo, how naughty.”

A swift punch landed on Angel’s forearm, making him yell out loud and nearly caused the driver, who had been gazing boredly at the road and hadn’t been paying attention to the two in the back, jump up and almost swerve the automobile if he wasn’t quick enough to straighten it out.

“Not like that, you pervert!” Vaggie yelled, irritated at how lightly he was taking this.

“Then what? He’s going to actually eat her? _Go jump in a lake_ , doll! Why’d you wanna be so worked up over _Joe Brooks_ anyway? Sure, he’s quite the _looker_ but I’d bet you he’s also a total _flat tire_. Seems too straight-laced to be _nerts_.”

“Look, there’s just something about that man, and I don’t trust him!”

Rubbing the sore spot to sooth it, Angel eyed her back just as annoyed. “To be fair, do you trust any man? Any men?”

Hearing that made him deserve another punch to a spot above the previous one, and he yelled again and made the driver jerk and swerve again, both cursing expletives out loud.

Giving up, Vaggie only turned to look out the window, thoughts filled with worry at the thought of Charlie now being alone with him.

* * *

True to his word, Alastor Carlon did bring her back home in one piece.

It had been late, as Vaggie was about to retire to bed when she heard soft noises sounding out from the front. She looked out her window and could make out the shapes of her best friend and their neighbour in the darkness of the night. They were having some sort of conversation in hushed tones, and he bowed slightly to give her hand a kiss before she turned to walk to the front door. He had just stood there, probably waiting until Charlie had gone inside, which sure enough she did when Vaggie heard the front door open and shut.

But she stayed where she was, watching the man just lingering there like some _mustard plaster_ for a few more seconds. As much as she was sure he wasn’t, she could almost get this creepy feeling that he was looking right back at her, and it unnerved her enough to have her retreat more into the darkness of her own room to keep herself hidden. She just kept watching, not leaving her spot until their neighbour finally walked out of their property and back to his own house next door.

Vaggie sat at her bed, willing her currently racing heart to calm down. She could not understand what was it about that man that brought her nerves on edge. He does nothing but smile and talk in that radio host voice of his, and up until now he hasn’t actually been right at their faces or bothered them at all.

Ay dios mio _… Maybe Angel’s right…_ she thought to herself grimly as she sunk into bed, waiting for sleep to wash over her. … _Maybe I am just worked up over nothing…_

The next morning over breakfast, Vaggie only listened attentively as a happy Charlie recounted about the sights she beheld last night. She was so excitable that she hardly even touched her breakfast whereas Vaggie was nearly half-way done with hers.

“Oh, Vaggie! We definitely need to have a night out into town so that you can see it for yourself! It was just so amazing! It’s nothing like back home. All the lights and the music. People just singing and dancing on the streets! And there’s these little things called beignets that were so good, it was better than any cake I’ve had in my life!”

Hearing her best friend being so excited like a little kid who just got candy made Vaggie laugh heartily. “Sounds exciting, hon! It’s nice to see you’ve enjoyed yourself.”

And yes, it was nice for Vaggie to see how much Charlie was enjoying herself. As of late, she knew how down she had been, what with the hotel seemingly going nowhere and the repeated rejections and humiliation she had to endure from dirtbag _butter and egg men_ , and not to mention nearly being assaulted. She had been so strong to go through all of that on her own, and if anyone deserved a break from it all and just enjoy, it was none other than Charlie, who was right now squishing her cheeks so gleefully.

“Oh, I really don’t know how to thank Alastor for last night. He’d been so nice and welcoming. If he hadn’t shown me what New Orleans had to offer, I would have been so dumb to it!”

The sinking feeling hit Vaggie again, and she wasn’t sure how to respond to her. While it was nice to know Charlie had a good time, it still didn’t sit well with her that it had been with their strange neighbour next door. Again, she tried to tell herself that she was just worked up over nothing again.

Before Vaggie could go into a deep train of thought, there were suddenly interrupted by the loud knocking of the front door.

“Oh, I wonder who that is.” Charlie got up from her seat to the front door, opening it and to her surprise - and delight - was Alastor standing there. The usual smile spreading his lips, he bowed his head and raised his fedora in good greeting.

“Good morning, Charlie dear. I hoped you’ve slept like a baby.”

“Good morning, Alastor. I slept very well, thank you.” Tucking a lock of hair to distract her from a growing shyness she felt building up inside, she continued as casually as possible. “So what brings you here to my doorstep? Don’t suppose you’ve just popped in for a bit of breakfast?”

Laughing, he shook his head. “Would love to, but can’t. Have to get an _ankle_ on to work soon, you see. Thought I’d just drop by just to say good morning to you on this lovely day.”

“Oh, of course. You are still a busy man, after all,” Charlie replied, and suddenly she was at a loss for words, unsure of how to continue the conversation.

“Anything on your mind, doll?” he inquired, and before she could stop herself, she immediately blurted out, “I know I probably said it a thousand times but again, thank you so much for last night. I really enjoyed it. I haven’t felt so energetic for a long time!”

“Then I don’t suppose you’d mind if I took you out again?”

Charlie immediately froze, wondering to herself if she heard that correctly. She looked back to him and saw that his smile had turned softer, and for a split second, Charlie wasn’t sure if he looked shy or her eyes were just playing tricks on her.

Adjusting his glasses, he continued casually, “The picture show’s just come out with some new releases, and tonight’s lookin’ to be a _swell_ night to catch one, if you’d be so kind to join me?”

Charlie started panicking internally, not anticipating this turn of events. She almost wanted to giggle out loud in sheer embarrassment, but immediately willed herself to not look like a giddy fool in front of him. No, absolutely not! No looking like some ditzy belle! She needed to play this off as cool as she possibly could, and a little naughty feeling in her didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of saying ‘yes’ immediately, wanting to play around with him even for just a little bit.

With that thought in mind, she crossed her arms and leaned against the frame of her door, gazing deep into his eyes with a quirk of her brow as she cheekily asked, “Mr. Carlon, are you asking me out on a date?”

Charlie was amazed at herself for the act, mentally giving herself a pat on the back, and the pride grew when it looked that Alastor seemed to reciprocate this action, judging from how his soft smile turned into a playful smirk as he gazed back at her with obvious interest. And from there, the air between the both of them intensified when he took a small step and extended a hand to rest on the wall next to the door, leaning in closer to her that their faces were almost just barely a few inches apart. Charlie could feel his faint breath, and it made the butterflies in her stomach flutter crazily in excitement.

“Well, I don’t think it would be anything else, Miss Magne,” he replied suavely, his eyes keeping hers locked. “I wouldn’t mind calling it one if it’s you.”

Hearing that made Charlie’s insides feel more electrified, but she willed her calm façade to stay as best as she could, distracting herself by responding with a hum and bringing a finger to tap on her lips, making it so it looked like she was in deep consideration when actually it’s to give her a moment to not break under his intense gaze. Alastor only patiently remained quiet and waited for her response, but she saw the way he looked intently at her lips as she touched them, as though he was pleased with the sight, and it tingled her senses on end.

“On one condition,” she finally declared as she straightened up, holding up one finger in the air. “I get to choose what to watch.”

A confident grin made an appearance and he immediately straightened up, swiftly adjusting his glasses that were almost slipping off his nose when he leaned forward. Lifting a hand, he offered it to her, asking smoothly, “So, it’s a deal, then?”

With that, Charlie allowed herself to smile at the earnest of his question, and she couldn’t help but giggle bashfully as she promptly placed her hand in his, feeling his fingers squeeze hers gently.

“Deal,” she agreed, smiling so sweet when he brought her knuckles to his lips to plant a soft kiss.

From where she was in the living room, discretely listening in on the exchange, the sinking feeling in Vaggie’s gut only got worse.

* * *

Angel Dust looked up from the book he was trying to read to see a lone Vaggie entering the lounge.

“Just you?” Angel remarked curiously, waiting to see if the blonde would walk through the door seconds later, which she didn’t. “Where’s Charlie?”

Vaggie scoffed as she put her purse down and took off her coat and hat, and it wasn’t difficult to tell that she’s in a bad mood - again.

“She’s on a date,” she replied tersely.

“Oh!” That immediately got Angel’s attentions, shooting up from his recline on the sofa, book forgotten and fallen to the floor. “How exciting. Who’s the lucky _egg_?” he implored eagerly.

Plopping down on the couch beside him, she rubbed her temples and heaved a heavy sigh. “You know who.”

Vaggie need not say anything more as Angel’s eyes widened in glee when he knew exactly who she was talking about. “Smiles? Get outta town! She’s actually gone on a second date with him?!”

“Urgh, yes. He asked her out to the picture place tonight.”

“Oooooh, the babe’s surely been real smitten if she jumped for a second one,” Angel laughed gleefully. “The fella must’ve been the absolute _cat’s meow_ last night.”

Unfortunately, Vaggie could not share the same sentiment, instead her own irritation at the situation grew worse. “ _Oh, por el amor de Dios_ , why are you so thrilled about it?” she snapped with teeth almost bared.

Angel’s upbeat mood immediately deflated at her response, and he groaned out loud and gave a huge roll of the eyes. “What’s got you riled up this time? What, still convinced that Mr. Smiling-Radio-Host is going to eat her up?” he mocked. “Let loose a lil, why doncha? Being her best friend, I thought you’d be the first to be glad that she’s actually going out to have a lil’ fun after so long.”

And that’s supposed to be true, wasn’t it? Vaggie was supposed to be glad that Charlie genuinely was having fun right now, and that she seemed more relaxed than she’s ever been since they stepped foot in New Orleans. She should be absolutely thankful that Charlie’s finally looking a lot happier than she had in the past few weeks.

But it was the person that Charlie was having fun with, that’s the problem. Sure, Alastor’s probably been quite the cordial gentleman to her thus far, and he seemed to be doing quite a good job at making Charlie smile. And who was she to stop her best friend from choosing to go out with him? Even if she didn’t like it, she wouldn’t say anything to stop Charlie from what she wanted to do.

Still, the hunch that something completely off about the whole thing was deep-seated, the dread eating away in her gut couldn’t be helped at the thought that there was a more sinister reason behind it. All the looks he gave Charlie when she had her back turned, how he always seemed to pop up at the most coincidental times, and how he seemed so intent in getting to be around her. 

No man would ever be that nice without reason, but what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally got Alastor and Charlie officially agreeing to date! ≧▽≦ But it looks like Vaggie isn't one to be easily fooled, and she's not wrong to be hinky about something being all left about Alastor. But it looks like she's putting Charlie's happiness before her own wariness, so she can only hope she's wrong about it! (Hmm...)
> 
> It's kind of interesting to see all of you getting really anxious about what's going to happen between Alastor and Charlie, and to be honest, I'm kind of itching to just tell you, but where will the fun in that be? Don't fret, readers! The story's only barely about a quarter done, and there's definitely going to be a lot more happening, so stay tuned~ 
> 
> By the way, I finally created a Twitter! Please feel free to follow me @MuseVlt and don't hesitate to chat up with me and ask any questions there! Please excuse me if it's pretty empty right now, but I'm hoping to fill it with some snippets and previews about future chapters, so I'm looking forward to it! 
> 
> Thank you so much for the kind and lovely kudos and comments! As always, I appreciate all of you for taking the time to express your opinions and appreciation for the chapters and even letting me read some interesting theories! I really look forward to hearing from you guys again!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Ankling - Walking  
> Wet blanket - A killjoy  
> Bozos - A stupid or foolish person  
> Hombre - Man  
> Kisser - Punch  
> Schnozzle - Nose  
> Cast a kitten - Throw a fuss  
> Lather - Fuss  
> Left - Wrong  
> Over the edge - Crazy  
> Crackers - Insane  
> Go jump in a lake - You're crazy  
> Joe Brooks - Smart and well-dressed man  
> Looker - Attractive  
> Flat tire - Bore/ Boring  
> Nerts - Crazy  
> Mustard plaster - Unwelcome guy who sticks around  
> Butter and egg men - Money men  
> Ankle - Walk  
> Swell - Good  
> Cat's Meow - Something splendid or stylish; similar to bee's knees; The best or greatest
> 
> Spanish translations (A/N: I'm using Google Translate so apologies if it's not completely correct!):
> 
> Ay dios mio - Oh my God  
> Oh por el amor de Dios - Oh, for the love of God


	13. Unexpected Visits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

The bell above the door jingled, and the mousy receptionist looked up to see a blond man, and dressed from head to toe in white with a top hat and a cane in hand, walking in, eyeing the room.

“Good morning,” she greeted as she stood, realising that the man was of quite an average stature, not much taller than her. “How may I help you, sir?”

He hadn’t been paying her any attention since he’s walked in, but finally turned to her with a toothy grin when he got up to the receptionist's desk. “Yes, hello! I’d like to perhaps have a little meeting with your boss. Mr. Reginald Alfonse, I believe?”

Hearing the name of her lecherous boss made the receptionist frown in uncertainty. “Well… I’m not sure how to say this, sir, but I’m not really sure where he is.”

The blond man hummed. “Oh? He isn’t in today?”

The receptionist shook her head. “No, he isn’t. In fact, he hasn’t been in for a few days. He’s disappeared.”

Now that caught the man’s attentions, his eyes widening slightly in curiousity. “‘Disappeared’, you say?”

The receptionist nodded her head in affirmation. “His lady’s gone and filed a missing report to the police just a few days ago. He hasn’t been showing up at home as well. Haven’t got a clue where he _lammed off_ to.”

“How very strange,” the man replied apathetically, taking one last look around the waiting room of the office. “Ah, well. Then I have no business here today. Thank you, missy. Good day.”

Before the receptionist could ask if he wanted to leave his name for a follow-up, the man turned and walked out swiftly.

* * *

“Are you sure you can manage all these?” Alastor asked politely as he gave her the grocery bag he had been helping to carry. “I wouldn’t mind helping you back home, dear.”

“No, you don’t have to do that,” Charlie protested as she now balanced two bags in her hands. “You’ve been quite helpful enough to want to follow me to do the shopping before work. I can manage, Al.”

Alastor only smiled. It was near close to ten in the morning, and he had gone through the trouble to follow her to the market to pick up some groceries despite her insistence that there was no need.

At this point, they were both seeing each other on an almost daily basis now. Ever since their date at the picture show – discovering to each other’s delight that they have a shared love for comedies – they’ve had a few more, just simple dinners in town and walks in parks, whenever their schedules would permit. With each moment spent with him, Charlie could not deny the fact that the feeling she knew she was starting to develop for the charming radio host was growing with strength, but she dared not put any question about it. Despite his eagerness to seemingly spend a lot of time by her side, he himself did not make any comment as to what he considered them as, so she didn’t want to outright say that he was ‘courting’ her - she thought it best to keep it to herself to not potentially make anything awkward. For now, she was simply content with his companionship.

“Then I suppose it’s time for me to make a move,” he remarked, looking at the watch on his wrist that showed that he needed to be in at the station soon. “I’ll see you around the neighbourhood?”

“Where else would we see each other?” Charlie smirked wittingly. “I hope you have a good day, Alastor.”

Unable to take her busy hands in for a usual kiss on the knuckles, he simply tipped his fedora to her and said a ‘good day’ before he turned in the direction of work. Charlie waited until he was out of sight before she made a move herself, eyeing the bags of foodstuffs in her hands excitedly. Throughout their dinners, Alastor’s been introducing her to more unique Louisiana dishes, like gumbo and étouffée, all so mouth-watering and delicious that she’d been more than excited to try her hand in the kitchen at making them. He’d been a big help in giving her some advice on cooking, showcasing extensive culinary knowledge which both surprised and impressed her.

 _A man that can cook. How else more surprising can he be?_ Charlie thought to herself with a smile on the walk home, feeling a skip in her step as she thought about what she should make first. She definitely can’t wait to fix up a meal that she and Vaggie would enjoy.

It only seemed like minutes later that Charlie turned around the corner onto the pathway to her house, her excitement for the kitchen only growing more within the close proximity, until she noticed an unfamiliar _boiler_ parked alongside the street in front of her home.

Charlie was confused since they’ve never had visitors to the home aside from Alastor. As she approached her lawn, she noticed a man in a grey suit and a Homburg on her porch, talking to an uncertain Vaggie, who immediately noticed her when she was approaching the steps, as did the man.

“Charlotte Magne?” he asked her.

“Yes?” she affirmed her identity, looking between him and Vaggie in confusion.

“My name is Detective Emil Dalton. I was hoping that I could ask you a few questions regarding Mr. Reginald Alfonse?”

* * *

“Got a top story for ya, Al ol’ boy,” the head of the station announced to Alastor once he had reached his desk, being handed some papers with today’s broadcasts before he could have a chance to hang up his suit jacket and hat.

There was suddenly a huff, and Alastor and the station head turned to Tom, who had been in the room too but completely ignored by the two. “Why does he always get the top story?” Tom grumbled, eyeing Alastor in disdain.

“Because this man’s got the golden voice and silver tongue, Tom,” the boss stated as-matter-of-factly, snubbing the other radio host. “He’ll sure be bringin’ in the listeners for this one.”

Skimming through the first few sentences on the first page, Alastor hummed nonchalantly. “Another missing case? Getting a bit out of hand with these happenings, don’t you think?”

“Numbers just keeps piling up. Don’t think I ever recall a year when there hasn’t been at least a few.”

“So what makes this one so different?”

“This one’s kind of got a lead,” the boss answered, looking over Alastor’s shoulder at the papers. “Our insides got word that some girl filed a report to the cops days before the _sap_ ’s wife called him missing. Apparently he’d been tryna get frisky with her and she attacked him and wanted to hold him accountable for assault. Cops did nothing about it since there wasn’t any rape, so they’re suspecting she might have something to do with it. What a story, eh? You think the _broad_ might have send him to the _Big One_?”

Alastor was only paying half a mind to what was being told to him, more focused on reading the material on the latest victim of the string of New Orleans missing cases. A certain Reginald Alfonse, who was quite the money man around town, having a few businesses under his name. The material written for his broadcast had, of course, been obviously spiced with _hooey_ of an anonymous female victim of unwanted propositions who could have had a hand to play in his anomalous disappearance.

Although, the station head was right on his speculation, but had been very far off as it wasn’t the girl who had sent the poor bastard off to the _Big One_.

Now it’s just quite unfortunate that Charlie may have unwittingly got herself into quite a situation. 

* * *

Being told that there had been no leads up to the lecher’s disappearance other than the failed report she had made at the station just a couple of days after the dreadful incident, Charlie knew what this looked like - with her report being the only lead relating to the man’s disappearance, she wasn’t dumb enough to not guess that she was a considerable suspect.

Charlie sat at the dining table with the _gumshoe_ sitting across from her and, forcing calm, she did her best to recount every single detail that happened, even admitting her moment of self-defense in throwing a paperweight on his feet and – with a look of shame - the kick to the jewels she committed right before she left the office.

Detective Dalton took notes of every little bit of information that came out of her mouth, only fuelling her anxiety of being careful to not accidentally make herself look suspicious due to her high-strung nerves. To make matters worse, he questioned her on every single thing she told him intently, sometimes repeating it a few times so that Charlie had to answer all over again. He’d told her it was so that he could be ascertained that he got all the right info, but she knew that it was a ploy to attempt her to somehow see if she would make a slip in her story.

“So, after leaving the station, you have never made any attempts to approach Mr. Alfonse in relation to the matter?” he interrogated.

“Not at all.”

“And that the only other place you had been to since the incident was at that halfway house of yours on the outskirts?”

“If I may, I consider it a ‘rehabilitation hotel’, not a halfway house.”

Detective Dalton did not look too amused at his question not being answered, and Charlie immediately shut up and answered a meek ‘yes’.

Vaggie had been sitting quietly in the living room, looking on at the exchange with nervous tension. She felt vexed at seeing the detective really hammer down the questions on Charlie, who was doing her best to keep a collected face when she knew deep down that the doll was stressed with trepidation. Several times she felt like she wanted to cut in, to support Charlie’s claims if so to prove her innocence from whatever suspicion she was in. But she remained where she was, not wanting to risk getting Charlie into further trouble. All she could do was just sit on tenterhooks. 

A knock on the front door broke the overwrought air in the house, making Vaggie and Charlie jump at the interruption while the detective only turned to the sound curiously.

“Um… Sorry sir, but do you mind if I get that?” Vaggie finally spoke up, not realising how dry her throat was that it made her voice sound like a crack.

Detective Dalton looked at her for a moment, before he gestured an allowance. Vaggie immediately got up to get to the front door, while a few more knocks were sounded, and opened it.

Her eyes widened at the unexpected sight of the familiar blond man in white standing on the porch.

“Sir!”

“Afternoon, Vaggie! Nice to see you again,” Lucifer greeted amicably with a grin as he walked in uninvited – not that he needed an invitation at all. “Is Charlie in?”

Vaggie stepped aside and gave a slight bow to him as he walked past. “Err, yes. In the dining room, but she’s-”

Lucifer already made his way to the dining room to see Charlie sitting at the table with the detective. His daughter’s eyes widened at the sight of him. “Daddy?” she staggered, almost getting out of her seat until she was stopped by a raise of her father’s hand, his attention on the guest.

“Hello, sweet apple. And who might you be?”

Detective Dalton promptly raised from his seat and extended a hand, which Lucifer took in a sturdy handshake. “Detective Emil Dalton,” he greeted.

“A _peeper_ , you say?” Lucifer raised a skeptical brow. “And what’s your business here in my daughter’s house?”

“Well, sir, I was only asking a few questions of your daughter, regarding a case,” the detective clarified.

Lucifer’s gaze slid over to Charlie, who knew that he knew, considering the fact that she had Razzle and Dazzle – who ever so often drove down from Baton Rouge to be in her service before returning to her parents’ estate by nightfall – deliver the letter that had detailed the unfortunate incident she had encountered. Lucifer would never visit without reason.

In just a split second, his attention returned to the visiting detective, and with a smile, he asked politely, “Well, will you be taking any longer, detective?”

Detective Dalton looked at Charlie, who gave a hesitant look in return, before deciding, “No, I don’t suppose so, sir. I’m about done here.”

“Well, then! I’ll walk you to the door,” Lucifer offered, a wave of the walking cane in his hand to the direction of the door. The detective collected his notebook and pen from the table and turned to Charlie to bid her his thanks for her time and patience before following Lucifer to the front, leaving Charlie to suddenly be wrapped in an urgent hug by a worried Vaggie and let out a big sigh of anxious relief.

“You’ll be returning, Detective?” Lucifer questioned when they were alone.

“’Fraid so, sir. We’ll have to see how the investigation goes, and I’ll need to investigate her further if we got any more leads.”

“Now, I don’t think I would allow that.”

Upon hearing that, Detective Dalton looked at the fancifully-dressed blond man with disbelief at what he had just been told. Lucifer, however, only looked back with an unperturbed grin.

“Beg your pardon?”

“You heard me, Detective,” Lucifer said indifferently. “I’m not going to allow that.”

Detective Dalton gave the shorter man a once-over, seeing if this was just some _gas_ he was pulling on him. But it wasn’t, as the blond still looked right at him steadfastly. Not liking how ballsy he was, the detective immediately squared up in front of him, looking down at him all bolshie-like. “And who do you think you are to tell me that, sir?”

Hearing the defiance in his tone only made Lucifer chuckle, which only confused and infuriated the detective, wondering what was so God-damned funny that the _bozo_ had the guts to laugh. Before he could say anything else, Lucifer’s small laughs only turned darker as he reached for his inner jacket pocket.

From it, he withdrew a single card - gold-plated and embellished with the image of a single full red apple.

Upon laying his eyes on the card, Detective Dalton’s confidence immediately flew out the damn window, and he felt his blood run cold as ice. He froze, suddenly at a complete loss for words, and he could have sworn that he felt his heart starting to skip several beats, hammering in a sudden wave of fear when realisation dawned on him on who this man was.

“I suppose you know,” Lucifer expressed with a grin all confident and shit-eating, clearly taking pride in the fear that enveloped the detective. The detective didn’t know what to do – he didn’t know whether to hightail out of this place or to fall to his knees and beg the man for his mercy. But he did neither, still too stupefied.

Without further ado, Lucifer simply kept the card back in his pocket and stepped aside to open the door for the detective, who continued to remain frozen in his spot. Lucifer stood by the open door, only looking at him expectantly, a light tapping of his foot to show minor impatience, until Detective Dalton finally came to his senses enough to shake out of his stupor and head straight for the door, half-tempted to break into a panicked run, which he could have if a hand didn’t suddenly grab his shoulder, immediately stopping him and heightening the fear that struck his core.

“Ah, wait, before I forget.”

Without hesitation, Lucifer reached down to pluck the notebook - with its precious pages containing discerning information of Charlie that he had no intention of letting out - from the detective’s clammy hands, which he let him, only watching with a meek side-eye as the blond wordlessly kept it in another inner pocket of his jacket. “Please do leave my daughter alone,” Lucifer exhorted simply with poised manner, but the looming threat behind his words was obvious and potent enough, to which the detective shakily nodded in compliance.

Satisfied, Lucifer bade the detective a simple farewell, flashing him another knowing grin before closing the door calmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, ho, ho. Looks like Daddy Lucifer re-enters the picture with a wicked trick up his sleeve! But what does that card mean, and why is it able to make someone go absolutely shitless at the sight of it? But I guess it's really handy, considering it got Charlie out of a very sticky situation she would not want to be in!
> 
> The story's about to get more intense as the chapters go and really it's been quite the struggle for me to put thoughts into words without losing the essence of the story or making it too draggy. Those who follow me on Twitter would know how far along with the progress I am, and some may have already been anticipating the apple bit in this chapter since you probably saw the 'teaser'! But for you, dear readers, I am ready to do my best!
> 
> As always, all your lovely kudos and comments gave me such a swell time reading it all and honestly I am just so entertained with knowing your thoughts, opinions as well as theories! Please do feel free to drop in more, and just remember that every bit of it is read with love and appreciation! 
> 
> Also, if you haven't, please do be so kind as to follow me on Twitter! It's been so nice to see people on there who love Smiling Man and it's been such a swell time getting to connect with them on a wacky spiritual level! Follow me @MuseVlt and don't be shy to hit me up!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Lammed off - Ran off  
> Boiler - Car  
> Sap - A dumb guy  
> Broad - Woman  
> Big One - Death  
> Hoeey - Nonsense/ Bullshit  
> Gumshoe - Detective  
> Peeper - Detective  
> Gas - Joke  
> Bozo - Stupid or foolish person


	14. Loggerheads and Utterances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

**_“Greetings and salutations, New Orleans! Alastor Carlon here to deliver the latest happenings around town. I hope you’re tuning in!_ **

**_Well, folks, looks like we got a real mystery here on our hands as missing cases are rising up almost day by day! Joining the string of strange disappearances is local businessman Reginald Alfonse, whose_ frau _had notified the authorities that it’s been close to a week since he’s returned home, and employees reported not to have seen him in the office. There isn’t even one single soul who has a clue on where he was last seen or heard from. Seems like he just up and vanished into thin air, ladies and gentlemen!_**

**_The police have not yet chanced upon any leads to Mr. Alfonse’s disappearance, but boy, do we have some bits for you! Our insider has managed to catch word that the victim has been quite the naughty boy lately! Police are now investigating a report submitted against the victim, which intended to hold Mr Alfonse responsible on account of attempted assault, but apparently had been directly rejected. It’s been speculated that this could hold some grounds that ties his disappearance to an anonymous female suspect. Pity the poor girl! Good golly, would you imagine that? Could a_ frail _possibly be our culprit here, driven by the rationale of injustice that she probably decided to force justice herself?_**

**_If any of you good folks may have information on the whereabouts of Mr. Reginald Alfonse, please kindly make your way to the police station and assist in whatever way possible. In the meanwhile, all of us here at the station implore you to be on the lookout when you’re out on the streets. You may never know if you might get_ dry-gulched _anytime!_**

**_Now that we have that out of the way, let’s move on to entertainment!”_ **

Charlie promptly turned off the radio, her stomach all in knots, when she listened to Alastor report the news on the missing Mr. Alfonse, seeming like a mocking happenstance to her. She felt shameful upon hearing the bit about the ‘anonymous female suspect’, knowing very well that it was referring to her, although she could at least feel relief that Alastor doesn’t know that.

She was alone in the living room with her father. Vaggie had been instructed by him to give them some privacy, so she busied herself elsewhere. Out of his top hat and jacket with his favourite walking cane resting against the chair, Lucifer reclined freely and casually smoked, having been engrossed with listening to the radio broadcast as well. When silence filled the room, he butted out his cigarette on a saucer plate kindly provided by Vaggie to use as a stand-in ashtray and gave his undivided attention to his daughter.

“What did I say about not taking shit from other _hombres_?” His words immediately sent Charlie on edge.

“I didn’t take anything from anybody,” she protested defensively. “All I did was find investors for the hotel. I didn’t think that he would try something on me.”

Lucifer’s eyebrows knitted in a derisive frown. “Of course, he’d try something on you, Charlotte. You’re a woman. Sly bastards like that one always on the prowl, especially for a young thing like yourself. You haven’t been in the real world long enough to know.”

She clenched her hands into fists on the fabric of her skirts, keeping her gaze down while he continued talking, preparing for the usual _jive_ that was coming for her.

“And is the _wherewithal_ I’ve put in for that place not enough?”

“It is for the time being, but it isn’t going to last if I want to run the hotel long-term,” Charlie answered blankly. “I need people who are interested to invest in the hotel on board to help keep it afloat.”

“Any luck then?”

Gritting her teeth, Charlie said nothing and only shook her head, eliciting an unsurprised hum from her father.

“Let me guess; they’re not interested because they think it’s complete horseshit, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“As expected.”

Charlie could feel her throat tightening and burning, unsure if it’s from an urge to break down crying or to cuss to no end – maybe a mix of the two, considering how she’s internally a mess of emotions at this point. But still remained quiet and looked down.

Lucifer sighed heavily and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, giving his daughter a closer look at his exasperation. “Darling, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You can’t just go on a whim with every little idea that pops in your head. I did tell you this was just a bunch of _bull_.”

“I thought you were impressed by my proposal when you read it,” Charlie retorted, angered at the little jab at her past failures that she was so very sensitive of, and she knew that her father knew that and was doing this on purpose. “You even helped me get the property when you did. And you-”

Lucifer only raised a finger as he rose the fact, silencing her effectively. “I said that because your mother and I thought that it had the potential to go long-term. But clearly, with what you’ve just enlightened me on with your progress, it doesn’t even seem to be going anywhere at this rate. Hell, you got yourself _in the soup_ looking for investors and now you got trouble with the _elephant ears_.” He paused to shake his head in disapproval, lambasting at her, “With everything that’s happened to you and all your little projects so far, I’d have thought that you at least learned when to quit when it’s simply _bootless_.”

This was not the first time Charlie had been receiving such a reprimanding from Lucifer, and it might probably not be the last time. And each and every time, she had always been able to hold her tongue to keep herself quiet and just bear through with the harshness of rejection and belittlement. At this point, it was almost ingrained in her to just take any insult that came her way.

But all of a sudden, a familiar voice immediately popped into her mind.

_This world’s full of ‘em assholes and scumbags who’s just gonna step on you just ‘cause they think they can._

_Keep your head up high and your ego higher. Keep doing that, and you’ll make it natural enough that ain’t nobody’s gonna be able to hurt you anymore._

Angel’s words of advice resonated through her, and suddenly she didn’t feel like keeping quiet. Not with all of the bullshit that she has gone through just to still put in so much time and effort to the hotel. This time, it felt like one insult too many, and she certainly didn’t need her father to be doing it to her once again. She had decided that enough was enough.

“Daddy, I respect you that you are probably ‘concerned’ about me, but it’s about time you stop _barbering_ about things I don’t want to hear and hear me out instead. I need to make it clear to you that I’m not just some ditzy little dolly like you expect just because that is all you think I am, and just to spare you any bruising to your ego.”

“Charlotte,” Lucifer was about to retort, but Charlie cut him off swiftly, not wanting to give him the chance.

“No, you listen to me. I know what I was getting myself into when I decided to pursue this, and you know what, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if ill-mannered, narrow-minded, shit-talking _plugs_ are just going to snide about me and every single thing I do and call me a _Dumb Dora_ and how I’m such a disgrace to the Magne family name. It doesn’t matter if all you are going to ever think me as is this naive little girl who wastes her time in stupid ‘passion projects’ that never end up working because it’s not what we ‘high-society’ folk bother about. What matters is that I don’t need all of you to believe in me because I know that I can do it. It doesn’t matter how long it’ll take me. Even if it’s forever, I’m going to get it down somehow. And I don’t need anyone, especially _you_ , to keep bringing me down whenever they want.”

So engrossed in her verbal onslaught, Charlie didn’t realise until she was done that she was almost leaning off her chair, her hands on the armrests keeping her balanced. She said nothing more, only inhaling a lungful of breaths she settled herself back down, her face flushed at the thought of what she had just done.

This was definitely not the usual father-and-daughter squabbles where she would have just ended up letting him have his way, seeing as how he was the type that knew how to command authority and put others in their place. She can’t recall if there ever was a time that she had ever put up a fight with her father this intensely, and Lucifer seemed to realise that too when all he did now was just look at her, his expression unreadable, and just keeping silent.

“I’m still going to do this,” she said with finality. “I’m not going to give up on this one.”

Lucifer’s vacant expression suddenly turned, but not one of anger or disapproval as Charlie had prepared herself for, but rather one of approval, his lips turning up into a smile as he chuckled affectionately, “Well, aren’t you showing your horns to go _loggerheads_ with me.”

Charlie watched him warily in silence, wondering if this sudden affection was just a farce for a brutal riposte.

“Can’t say I’m not proud of this stubbornness of yours, sweet apple,” he continued. “ _Attagirl_! You’re going to need a lot of that if you want to stick to that plan of yours.”

It wasn’t what Charlie wanted to hear, although she definitely did not expect that. But she knew Lucifer would never truly change his mind completely, and she supposed that this little bit of advice she received from her father was the most she should be content with for the meanwhile.

* * *

From the counter, Rosie looked up when she heard the bell above the door jingled, and she saw a short man dressed outlandishly in white from head-to-toe with a top hat and cane standing there, looking around the emporium with a peculiar look. She was confused as to why someone so fancily-dressed would be here at this time of night, but not as much as she was annoyed that someone would walk in when she was clearly not open for business.

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m closed for the night, dear,” she called out sternly.

The stranger ignored her, continuing to look around the interior of the shop. He lazily walked to the counter, the rhythmic tap of his cane on the floor as he walked resounding in the silence that hung between them. Rosie only quirked a brow. “Can I help you?” she asked politely, her irritation only showing in the slightest.

It was only when he was right across her at the counter that he finally looked at her, and Rosie noticed immediately that, despite his average stature, he had an air about him that exuded confidence and authority. But that only made her all the more wary, realising that he wasn’t just some idiot who couldn’t read a ‘Closed’ sign and just waltz in with no reason.

“Quite a little shop you’ve got here,” the stranger commented casually.

“Did you come in here just to make remarks about my emporium?”

“Just interesting how well you’ve kept hidden with a bog-standard dump like this,” the man chuckled back, clearly in the mood for banter. But that statement alone made Rosie’s vexation grew, as did it alarm her.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure exactly what you mean,” she tried to pass off sounding as confused as she could fake it to be, although the man’s knowing grin only made the effort futile.

“Oh, but you do,” the man answered with awareness. “This little emporium of yours isn’t the one thing that’s bringing you the _mazuma_ , ma’am.”

Now that sent Rosie’s nerves on edge, and her mind was racing to figure out if this man was intending to be a patron or if he was some _call copper_ sniffing her out. She kept her eyes fixed on him as she leaned forward on the countertop to rest her arms there, but she shifted one of her hands to unobtrusively move to a little nook under the table, where a pistol, which had belonged to her dear deceased Franklin, was kept hidden away there – one should never go unprepared, after all.

“And who exactly are you to know that?” she asked, stone-cold serious and no longer in the mood to carry this farce on for long.

The man, realising that she had indirectly let the cat out of the bag, only let out a small laugh, which agitated Rosie more and her fingers wrapped quietly around the grip of the pistol, her index finger hovering carefully above the trigger in the case she needed to pull a quick _clip_.

Without another word, the man’s free hand moved to the insides of his jacket to pull something out from the pocket. And in a flick of a wrist, he produced a single gold card that had the imprint of single ruby red apple.

Rosie’s hand promptly released its hold on the pistol when her sights set upon the card and its imagery.

With a dark smirk and the narrowing of his spirited eyes, the man enlightened her of his identity.

“The one that's helping your little ‘side-business’ under wraps.”

Rosie’s nerves were immediately heightened to new extremes as she felt her heart increasing in pace. She recognised that symbol anywhere. Anyone who involved themselves in the seedy business of the underground of society would know that symbol anywhere. And she doesn’t think her dear heart was unable to take the weight of the situation she was currently in when she realised who exactly was standing in front of her.

“You’re… You’re the Big Apple…”

The Big Apple, a seemingly insipid name, but truly one of the most notorious gangsters in the country. Prohibition was his rise to power, having snatched the opportunity that the direful law provided to create a seamless clandestine operation in the distillation, procurement and sale of the best _hooch_ one could find anywhere in this godforsaken country. He was famed to run it like a formidable ruler of his own domain, having legions of _trouble boys_ to do his bidding, whether by careful transactions or sheer brute force. His influence and hold on power were spread across the states, creating a network where an abundance of illegal liquor flows – a clear evidence of his shrouded dominion that had been so carefully hush-hush that the law had not once ever come close to _pinching_ him, although one could suspect that his supremacy had even gotten hold of the law itself if he could ensure his safety for so long.

But as much of a big name he was, nobody had ever actually seen the man for themselves, for it seemed he had a preference to work within the shadows of the underground. Looked like he himself didn’t want to be too heavily involved in the dirty work – why would he if he had so many who were able to do it for him? Even Rosie, who had decided to jump the gun in seeking his help when she first started her speakeasy years ago, had her dealings done through one of his middlemen.

Whoever the Big Apple was, Rosie could never ever guess that he could be someone that seemed to have a penchant for being so overly-dressed in stark white – with a damn top hat, for goodness sake! – and grinning at her realisation like he had just heard an amusing joke.

What a night this was going to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp! Most of you got the right guess for what's Apple Daddy's 'side-job' in the story! And let me tell you, this isn't for shits and giggles! Lucifer's role will play a HUGE part in future plot points, so look out for him! But in the meanwhile, it looks like Charlie's just about had enough of anyone's shit and she's going to go head-on with her plan, but I wonder how the newly-ignited determination would fare for her?
> 
> To all those who found me via Twitter; Welcome! And I hope you'll stick around for this twisting-and-turning party that we're about to have! I've seen your tweets, and I am LOVING every single one of them dearly! I think my heart may be unable to bear the love I've been receiving (please, don't stop, I beg you!) For those interested to find me on Twitter to be hear my wacky nonsense and get little snippets of teasers and such, do feel free to follow me @MuseVlt ! Come talk to me, and don't be shy!
> 
> I also want to give a HUGE shoutout and my love to Manekinari, Cathaeris, and RochiYume for your ABSOLUTELY STUNNING AND BEAUTIFUL fanart! I look at them on a daily basis (it's creepy, I know and I'm sorry) and they give me huge motivation and inspiration while I work! Please support these talented artists on Twitter @Manekinari, @Cathaeris_art, and @Sheila96716588 and show them your love!
> 
> Once again and as always, to all my dear readers on AO3, I love and appreciate every single one of you for showing me such great support for Smiling Man! I can only hope that how the story goes will keep every one of you entertained and on the edge of your seats! If you're free, do leave some appreciative kudos and comments! I'd love to hear them!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Frau - Wife  
> Frail - Woman  
> Dry-gulched - Knock out, hit on head after ambushing  
> Hombres - Men  
> Jive - Unpleasant talk  
> Wherewithal - Money or other means needed for a particular purpose  
> Bull - Nonsense  
> In the soup - In trouble  
> Elephant ear's - The police  
> Bootless - Hopeless  
> Barbering - Talking  
> Plugs - People  
> Dumb Dora - Unintelligent woman  
> Loggerheads - To strongly disagree  
> Attagirl: Well done  
> Mazuma - Money  
> Call copper - Police informant  
> Clip - Shot  
> Hooch - Liquor  
> Trouble boys - Gangsters  
> Pinching - Arresting/ Capturing


	15. Never Holding Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: EXPLICIT VIOLENCE, BLOOD, AND MURDER

Rosie wasn’t at her usual place at the counter when Alastor walked into the closed emporium and it hit him right off the bat that something was up. He called out her name, thinking that she may have disappeared to the backroom, and upon hearing no answer, simply shrugged and went ahead to knock on the bookshelf to grant himself access to the speakeasy.

He had decided to drop by the establishment to _tip a few_ since work had been quite a drag today, but tonight it seemed that the air of the place was completely off. For starters, in lieu of the usual jazz and ragtime, the band was playing polka, which Alastor could only be baffled at this ‘interesting’ choice of musical entertainment that did not please his ears.

He looked around curiously, wondering what else seemed out of place aside from the music, and that’s when he saw the proprietress seated at one of the best tables, but Rosie wasn’t alone. There was a man that was peculiarly dressed in white, sticking out so obviously amidst the other patrons here. Alastor could only see the back of his blond head, clearly having no indication of his face, but he was sure that the stranger wasn’t someone from around here.

Keeping his eye on Rosie, Alastor made his way to his usual seat at the bar, where Husk was standing and watching the same scene as he was. The bartender was not drinking - even odder! - and he was obviously quite ruffled about that, his hands kept busy aimlessly shuffling a deck of playing cards.

“Anything I should know?” Alastor asked Husk with interest at the strangeness of the night thus far.

Tilting his head towards where Rosie and the man were, Husk replied in a murmur, “That’s the Big Apple.”

“Really now?” Alastor perked up with further immense interest, eyes wide in wonder. “One of the notorious big-bads of the underworld of Prohibition?”

“That’s the one. Everybody’s on edge knowing he’s here. Rosie’s given us the _earful_ on being on our best behaviour.” Narrowing his eyes into slits at Alastor, he warned harshly, “So I better not find any more _zotzing_ in the restroom from you tonight. I won’t handle any of your shit if I can’t have a drink.”

Alastor laughed at the stress of his distressed friend. “Well, it’s a good thing I can! Some nice ol’ gin please, my exasperated boy!”

Husk could only growl under his breath as he poured a gin for Alastor, who paid no heed to him and instead continued to watch the important guest that Rosie was entertaining. He still couldn’t get a glimpse of the man’s face from where he was seated, only seeing him clapping merrily to the obnoxious polka that was playing.

“Any idea why he’s here?”

“No,” Husk answered, handing the tumbler to his waiting hand. “He just came into the store and scared Rosie a bit and got down here requesting for that god-awful music to be played.”

Alastor hummed as he took a sip. “How curious, don’t you suppose?”

Husk shrugged indifferently. “Who knows about gangsters. Best not to question whatever they do.”

“ _And how_ ,” Alastor raised his glass in agreement.

“By the way, I was listening to your broadcast today.”

“Really now? And how was it?”

“I’d suggest you lay low for the time being,” the bartender told him grimly, his expression grave to match.

The conversation was certainly out-of-the-blue for Alastor, who had the glass halfway to his lips when he paused to look at the bartender in surprise. “Oh? And here I was thinking you were going to comment on my performance. Pray tell, Husker, what’s suddenly brought this up?”

Husk scratched the back of his neck, unsure of how exactly to word the conversation he’s brought up out of random. In fact, he didn’t know why he bothered to. He supposed not busying himself with a drink was doing all sorts of wacky things on him.

“Now I don’t usually wanna be all up in your _beeswax_ , but I gotta tell you it’s getting kind of out of hand here. It’s keeping everyone in town all keyed-up, and it’s just going to go down the shithole once the cops actually get their shit together and start to piece things and find out what exactly happened to all of ‘em.”

A shift in Alastor’s smile occurred then, turning into a strained close-lipped as he started to look a little offended at being somehow reprimanded by the tetchy bartender. “And who are you to be schooling me, my friend?” Alastor mockingly retorted. “Need I remind you that it’s also what’s keeping you paid very generously to continue with your little hobbies of booze and cards.”

“I ain’t schooling you. I’m telling you that you’re being too much of a show-off right now,” Husk countered in exasperation, his hands irritably dribbling the deck of cards from hand to hand at how stubborn he was. “Listen, it may have been easy for you to fool people with that ‘charming’ smile of yours to make them believe you’re just some _egg_ that’s always in a good mood for some reason, but it’ll all come back to bite you in the ass one of these days if you ain’t too careful.”

The man suddenly broke into a laugh that broke the tense atmosphere of the conversation, although Husk was peed off at what exactly the crazed loon found to be so hilarious.

“My, my, Husker! I never thought you being sober made you care about me more!” Alastor teased, grinning in ridicule. “You ought to do it more often.”

Of course, Husk had expected such a response to completely brush aside what he said. But he was no pushover, and the point needed to be brought across.

“Look, just do us all a favour and _don’t take any wooden nickels_. It’ll save the rest of us some trouble of getting traced too.”

It was then Alastor actually remained quiet, only looking thoughtfully at the drink in his hands, and it looked as though he was actually contemplating about something. Husk stopped shuffling the cards in his hands to just look at him, waiting for his reaction. If there was something that he said that somehow managed to make the man stop and think about the consequences of his actions, he’d better get a lottery ticket.

But alas, Alastor simply shrugged his shoulders and took a large gulp of gin before placing the glass down with finality. “Hmm, ‘fraid I can’t make any promises that I won’t, ol’ boy,” he riposted, shaking his head. “You know how easily bored I get! It simply won’t do!”

 _Why in the fuck do I even bother?_ Husk internally sighed to himself. Of course, the smug bastard would say something like that. The man was stubborn after all, and he made it very clear that nothing could ever change his mind other than his own. Knowing when to throw in the towel, Husker decided to give up on any further attempts to continue the conversation.

“Well, if you’re planning to go down, just don’t drag any of us along with ya.”

* * *

Alastor walked briskly on the path to home and whistled a tune to himself into the silence of the night that came with a cool breeze and was dimly-lit by the street lamps. It was well past the witching hour now and there was not a soul in sight, all probably in their cosy homes and away from the dangers that the night would bring.

But Alastor wasn’t much too concerned about that, instead thinking back to the strange conversation he had with Husker back at the bar. While there might have been maybe a smidgen of concern in the gruff man for Alastor to be appreciative of, he thought that the bartender would have known better than to advise him on such a thing. Alastor played by no one’s rules except his own. Those closest to him would have known too well that he wasn’t one to be scared of playing with fire. In fact, it only urged him for the thrill of dancing with danger, to see how far he can go to push the limits, and how his influence could unsettle a whole city with his hidden actions.

It was a good thing he was quite gin-soaked to brush off the conversation without much thought, and still, he wasn’t _zozzled_ enough that he could risk blacking out on the streets.

Nor was it enough to have his senses dulled to not be fully aware of his surroundings, especially when he suddenly heard approaching footsteps coming from right behind him.

“Hey!”

The shout promptly made Alastor stop his whistling and his tracks, and he turned his head to see the silhouette of a young man walking with purpose towards him. As he fast approached, Alastor recalled the face of one of the _rubes_ that he had fended off from Charlie and her friends days before, and he could tell judging from the look on his _mug_ exactly what intent he had in mind to close in on him.

“May I help you?” he turned around fully to address him, his stance tall and fearless because this man was simply a fool to not know exactly who he was planning to deal with in the dark shadows of the night.

“You better wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, _Buddy Roe_ ,” the lad spat churlishly. “We got some unfinished _beef_ with ya.”

Alastor would have just continued with arrogantly staring down at the bastard in front of him, but something in his mind clicked when he realised what had just been said.

‘We’?

And that’s when it hit him.

Literally, it hit him.

He got _dry-gulched_.

A blow to the side of his head came from behind, and Alastor immediately fell forward at the unexpected impact as he comprehended the sensation of broken shards of glass raining down his face – he recalled for a split second when he had witnessed this similar scene, although it was ironic considering that back then, he had been the one to do the breaking instead of the other way round.

The ambush was enough to have him debilitated, forcing his hold on control over the situation to waver and allowing him to get himself trapped in a full nelson. A quick glance behind and he saw that his assailant was the other fellow from that day, telling from his crooked nose.

Well now, this was certainly a first for him. He had never been caught in this situation before – all the times anyone’s ever tried to jump on him, it had been direct to his face in the attempt of a quick _glaum_ , and it was more than easy for him to deal with it since he’d been sober. He cursed himself internally for the little inebriation he had put himself in – he was not _splifficated_ but it was enough to not make him careful to watch his behind. How very unfortunate!

More unfortunate so when a fist suddenly rammed into Alastor’s abdomen, forcing all his breath out of him and making him double over in shock. But he wasn’t allowed time to recover before the one behind him forcefully straightened him up into a stand again, leaving his front exposed for more _kisses_ , with the next one coming soon after the first, and then another, and then another.

 _…Ah…how familiar…_ Alastor thought to himself in the flurry of hits. At that moment, his mind curiously wandered from the little predicament he was in and began to remember all his incidences of butchering, finding it somewhat sardonic how this time, he’d been forced into the position of his victims.

Another hit to the gut, and then it stopped as the bastard took a step back for a breather, allowing Alastor to slump in his restraint, coughing up spittle – and maybe blood? He wasn’t too sure – that dribbled ungracefully down his chin. He took in breaths in shudders, his body heaving through the now-onerous task, his head hanging down and causing his glasses to slip off his nose and fall to the hard ground.

The inability to defend. The disability to fight back. Forced to subject the body to whims of peril that befell upon it. Beaten down so senselessly before a way out could be thought out. Was this how it had been like for all his victims? Perhaps so. But in his eyes, he pondered if this was probably a cruel irony of hunter becoming the hunted, when predator had been forced in a twist of bad luck to be prey. How easy it had been for him to fall victim, and yet he only had himself to blame for not being too cautious, even if he hadn’t been in the tipsy state he was in. He could only imagine how all his casualties must have felt when they met their fate’s end by him.

And yet, how long has it been that he’d been put in this place? When was the last time he’d been at the mercy of someone else? He can’t really recall properly now, but that memory was there, hidden within the darkest recesses of his mind, threatening to rear its ugly head out.

“Not so scary now, tough guy,” he heard the boy barb boastfully, proceeding to step right on his glasses, and Alastor could only watch as the glass and wireframe crunched under his foot.

It was then something in him snapped, and he felt white-hot fury suddenly spur through the racing blood in his veins. He realised then that no, these punks were not something for him to be afraid of, and they would never be. These were just a couple of idiots who foolishly thought that outnumbering him bagged them dominance. Did they really believe that some punches and a mocking statement were enough to have him shrivel in fear?

He absolutely loathed it. He despised the thought of even allowing them this much control over him, and good golly, was he going to have to take that back! They didn’t have the eloquence to be worthy of that, especially over him! These two idiots did not have the ‘skill’ he possessed! They didn’t have the balls to pull off what he could!

Alastor wouldn’t allow this. Not at all.

He wouldn’t allow this to happen to him again. Not again.

“Are you quite done?” he rasped in a sneer, narrowed eyes glaring challengingly at his attacker.

His smart answer didn’t sit well with the _jobbie_ , who answered with a swift whack right across Alastor’s face. His head snapped to the side, almost potentially giving him whiplash he might suffer come morning, but no pain came to him in that stunned stillness, instead the rage that was boiling grew into a fire that was consuming him wholly from within.

Now, he definitely had enough. He’s let these _yahoos_ have their fun, but they’ve clearly bit off more than they could chew.

In a split second, Alastor turned his head sharply back to the bastard, his eyes widening with a new surge of adrenaline that flared up from deep within his core. Through the numbness, he felt his lips stretch as far back to reveal teeth, his usual grin back in place where it belonged and would always stay.

“You better taste good,” Alastor growled under his breath.

Those strange choices of words were enough to have his assailant freeze in his act, looking at him in a sudden bout of disturbed confusion. If only he hadn’t stopped dead then, which had been more than enough time for Alastor to suddenly raise both his legs and plant the soles of his feet on the boy’s chest, using the momentum to give him a hard shove that sent him tumbling to the ground.

And without a moment’s hesitation, as his feet found firm footing back on the ground, Alastor dropped his head forward quickly to only roughly fling it back immediately, _conking_ his cranium directly onto his holder’s nose with all the force he could muster. A loud sickening crunch was heard, followed by a howl of anguish, and he was immediately let go as the idiot holding him captive doubled back to get a hold on his already-broken nose, made worse now that it had lost all progress of recovery from his first good socking by Miss Vaggie.

Seeing his chance, Alastor made haste and pounced right onto the one that was about to get up, pushing him back onto the ground. This stunned the boy in confusion, which quickly turned to panic as he tried to shake Alastor off. But he was more than ready to intend no escape for the new victim under him and forcefully pinned him with the weight of his own body, firmly gripping down on his biceps so that his hands were just out of reach from grabbing him, and tightly straddling his legs with his thighs to immobilise him further and prevent the risk of him being kicked off.

“ **GET THE FUCK OFF ME, FUCKIN’ CUNT!** ” the boy shouted at the top of his lungs.

His voice rang in Alastor’s ears and it disgusted him immensely at how vile the sound was, driven by a sudden desperate need to rid of it so that he didn’t have to hear its distastefulness any longer. And so, before the idiot could have another chance to shout once more, it broke out into a loud scream of pain when he suddenly felt sharp bare teeth bite deep down onto his neck.

That scream immediately turned into a bloodcurdling wail as Alastor forcefully ripped out his jugular in his bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAYYYYY ALASTOR RIPPED SOMEONE'S THROAT OFF WITH HIS BARE TEETH.
> 
> I know how much ya'll loved murderous Alastor back in Chapter 8, so here we finally have him back at it again! This one really took me a while to plan it out, and I'll be damned I'm actually pleased with how it turned out with pure imagination and research (ONLINE RESEARCH THAT IS). So, my dear readers, what do you supposed would come next hmm?
> 
> I'd like to give a shout out to Danie's Eve for drawing such gorgeous fanart of creepy Alastor and lovely Miss Charlie! Seriously, it was so simple, but the creepy just smacks me in the face! Please follow her on Twitter @eve_danie and show your love and support! 
> 
> Also! If you'd like, please do follow me on Twitter @MuseVlt ! I love talking and having wacky conversations there, so don't be shy!
> 
> Thank you all so much for taking the time to give the story some lovely kudos and awesome comments. I love reading every one of them and it's just so entertaining to see all the theories and fangirling you all have for each chapter! Please feel free to drop in more and I can't wait to read them!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Tip a few - Have a few drinks  
> Earful - Warning  
> Zotzing - Killings  
> And how - I agree  
> Beeswax - Business  
> Egg - Man  
> Don't take any wooden nickels - Don't do anything stupid  
> Zozzled - Drunk/ Shitfaced  
> Rubes - Unsophisticated men  
> Buddy Roe - A threatening form of address for a male in the South  
> Beef - Problem  
> Dry-gulched - Knock out, hit on head after ambushing  
> Glaum - Steal  
> Spifflicated - Drunk, intoxicated  
> Kisses - Punches  
> Jobbie - Boy  
> Yahoos - Clumsy, unsophisticated people  
> Conking - Hitting


	16. A Meeting in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: EXPLICIT VIOLENCE, BLOOD, AND MURDER

Thick warm blood sprayed across Alastor’s face, painting him red before he could have the chance to move out of the way. It gushed with such vigour that it rained onto the pavement and stained the concrete. A sick chortling sound replaced the man’s dying screams, followed by dark red pooling out from his mouth that flowed like a river.

Alastor could only look in mirth as the boy spazzed uncontrollably on the ground, choking on his own blood. The half-wit’s eyes, only mere minutes ago looked at him with such imprudent smugness, were so widely struck with fear and horror that one would think he might be looking directly at Death itself, with its physical embodiment grinning down on him so absolutely maddening.

The flowing of blood gradually came to a stop, and by then the fellow had it coating and seeping in deep to every crevice on his face that Alastor could no longer see his daunted eyes. The gaping wound still glistened wetly in the fissure of torn flesh and muscle, a disturbing and grotesque sight that looked like a masterpiece to Alastor’s eyes.

“…Oh my fuckin’ God…”

When he heard that whimper, he suddenly snapped out of some trance-like daze he had been in and whipped around to find the other one staring with an unadulterated look of pure trepidation. He was still cradling his now twice-broken and bleeding nose, but that seemed to be out of the spectrum of focus as he got a load of the scene in front of him.

Before the poor boy could comprehend, Alastor charged at him to the ground, pinning him down with his weight as he did with the previous one. He straddled the boy at the stomach, giving him one good _socking_ for no good reason other than payback for that little ambush he pulled. It left the poor _sap_ a complete sputtering mess.

“…P…Ple…ase…” the boy whimpered, his voice cracking with sobs as tears streamed fast down his cheeks. A soft trickling sound was heard, and Alastor’s eyes widened in a mix of surprise and disgust to realise that the fool was damn pissing himself!

He was about to admonish the vile act, but the torn-out chunk of bloody flesh still in his teeth came to his realisation. Still warm and soft in his bite, the blood that spilled was coating his tongue with the sharp tang of taste akin to metal and salt, dripping messily down his _trap_ and possibly dirtying his suit jacket. Alastor promptly spat it out, and it landed right by the boy’s head, making him cry even louder in terror.

“...Oh God...Let…Me…G-g-go…Ple…Please…S-Sorry…Please…”

“I’m afraid God can’t help you now,” Alastor muttered through his strained grin, and his _mitts_ sought purchase of the fellow’s scrawny _pipe_ , enveloping it in his grip and forcing a hard squeeze.

It was a much quieter kill than the other, the poor boy having been completely void of the ability to use his vocals as his airway was being cut off. His hands gripped at Alastor’s wrists, dirty nails digging into his skin as he pathetically tried to pry his hands off, and his legs were kicking furiously to shake himself free, but resistance was futile as Alastor only increased the strength of his hold, causing whatever air was left in the boy to be forced out in a gasp. And as the seconds ticked by, the lack of oxygen, coupled with the strong hit he took to the face and the cutting of circulation to his head, slowly took effect as the desperate scratching slowed, only limply gripping Alastor’s hands. It wasn’t clear in the dark, but Alastor could almost see a shade of blue filling his complexion, and his fearful eyes looked so gouged it could possibly pop right out the sockets.

Those eyes then slowly rolled upwards to the back of the head, just as his weakened grip finally fell lax and the entire body finally stopped moving in his struggle.

Alastor waited, seconds passing after a stillness came over the boy, and stayed straddled on the body and gradually loosened his hands, still hovering over the neck in case there could be a sudden jump, before withdrawing completely once he was sure that he was laying _dormy_ and was as good as gone. Keeping his gaze locked on the lifeless eyes that were glassily looking back at him, he forced himself to come to a shaky stand.

Breathing hard, Alastor was suddenly very much aware of the state his body was currently in. The blows he took to his abdomen left it thrumming in pain – sure to leave an array of bruises, but he was certain enough that none of his ribs are broken since the hits hadn’t been strong enough to do that. The back of his head was throbbing from where he forced it back on his captor’s face, a goose egg sure to form.

One in his position would have crumbled to the ground in complete exhaustion and agony, but not him.

He supposed the surge of adrenaline had been reason to dull those unfavourable senses comfortably, so much so that he could enjoy this moment. The music of hopelessness and despair, it sang to his violent yearnings and emboldened his bloodlust. Snuffing both their pathetic little lives ignited ecstasy in his veins akin to a _snowbird_ indulging in _nose-candy_. Remembering the last one’s whimpers for mercy, he couldn’t help but laugh in joy, feeling so empowered that he thwarted their puny attempts of puissance and showed them exactly what a real killer could do.

And as he laughed, he felt a dribble hit the corner of his lips, and he recalled that his face was practically drenched in blood from the little bite he took. He wasn’t exactly sure how much of a mess it was, but concern wasn’t in the cards right now, and he lapped up the dribble of blood without care, savouring the heady taste.

 _…Delicious…_ he sighed internally, senses heightened in his high. 

And it had been heightened enough for him to realise that there was the soft sound of clapping coming from behind him, and he snapped his head around to find a blond man in white standing right over the eviscerated body, looking right at him with a big chilling smile.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself in a bit of a situation, my friend,” the Big Apple noted, his smile widening into a scheming grin. “Allow me to help you.”

* * *

**_“Who the_ fuck is this _?”_**

“Husker.”

**_“Alastor? What the hell are you callin’ for?”_ **

Despite the pain in his chest, Alastor chuckled heartily, “You mentioned something about not handling any of my shit if you can’t have a drink. So, I just wanted to know if you had that drink yet?”

A silence followed and it stretched on for quite a while, and Alastor was almost unsure if the call had been cut off or if Husk wasn’t there. But before he prompted, the gruff voice came back, asking irately, **_“What the_ fuck _did you do now?”_**

“Simple self-defense, my friend,” he answered, grimly thinking back to the predicament he had gotten himself out of. “Anyway, I can’t really get right into the details now. I need you and Niffty to _hightail_ down to the alley ‘round the corner of Lafayette. There isn’t much time.”

**_“Wait. What the fuck is going on? Where exactly are you?”_ **

“As much as I appreciate such rare care and concern, dear Husker, I’m afraid there’s no time for that,” Alastor replied sharply, impatience creeping into him and could be mildly heard in his strained voice. “Just get down there before the _elbows_ do.”

Another pregnant silence, hanging with the uncertainty that Husk was probably in, and Alastor was about ready to command again until there was a terse, **_“Alright, alright. We’ll be there.”_**

With that affirmation, Alastor said no more and wordlessly put down the phone. He trusted that Husk and Niffty would see to it that the bodies be properly disposed before the crack of dawn, so long as they got to the hiding spot behind some trash cans and discarded crates before it was riddled with the police – with all the screaming during his little bustle, someone had surely heard and made an alerting call, and it was sure to be quite the job for them once they found the large stain of blood that had dried on the concrete pavement. It was a _crummy_ job, but considering the time crunch and the unfit condition he was currently in, it was the best he could do. He would have considered having them brought to his house since it had been a while since he’s had a good ‘meal’, but decided that it was too much of an arduous task for him to handle.

Besides, he didn’t exactly need the risk of having the _trouble man_ finding out where he lived.

And speaking of him, Alastor dragged himself to the waiting _hayburner_ that was parked right beside the phone booth. He got in as delicately as he could, clutching his sides as he settled himself. As the car promptly drove off, a hand appeared with a folded piece of cloth.

“You’re filthy,” the Big Apple remarked with an insincere smile. “Don’t want you getting it all over the seats. The _frau_ wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

Alastor said nothing as he took the cloth, wiping whatever traces of blood there were left on his face. Most of it had dried up by now and would need a proper scrubbing to get out, but so long as it wasn’t too obvious that he’d just bite someone’s neck off, it’ll be enough.

Silence hung in the backseat of the car as he busied himself with cleaning up, but he was all too aware of the eyes that were watching him studiously. The Big Apple sat beside him, legs crossed with his hands clasping his walking cane, top hat off and at his side on the seats. Glancing at him from the corner of his eye, Alastor wondered curiously to himself about how he was actually sitting next to one of the most powerful figures in the underworld of Prohibition.

He had claimed he had just been ‘passing by’, and chanced upon the struggle when he heard the ruckus. Alastor had made no attempt to hide his crime since it’d been in plain sight for the man to see. The _egg_ looked more like some fancy showman than a ruthless gangster, but the aura he carried made clear that he was by no means someone to be easily trifled with, lest one was prepared to face unforeseen dire consequences. As much as Alastor was certain of his own prowess, he wasn’t one to stupidly act so rashly against someone far superior to him – the two buffoons that were lying dead on the ground were prime examples of what could happen if he tried. But admittingly, if it had come down to it, Alastor had been ready to attack if necessary, not giving any damns about what this man could do to him if it meant having to save his own skin.

But then all the man did was offer his assistance, and even a ride to allow him to not walk the streets looking fresh out of a murder. Although polite, there had been an underlying command that made it seem he would have no choice and it was meant to be heeded. And while Alastor had still been in circumspect, his curiosity peeked at this. He had always been one to throw caution to the wind and see where it got him, and it would be completely unbecoming of him to be looking all chicken-hearted, even if it’s to this _Big Shot_.

“Do you usually pick people off the streets?” Alastor broke the silence, finally turning to look at the man right in the eye with his usual grin plastered on his face.

The Big Apple, who’d been watching him throughout the silence, grinned back just as heartily. “Only the ones who’ve put on quite the show,” he replied. “How ever did you manage to pull off such a stunt?”

“Years of practice.”

“Such expertise! You’ve gone _off the track_ on those fools with just your bare hands,” the blond man marvelled enthusiastically, looking like a kid in a candy store. “Don’t think I’ve ever come across such an animal like you.”

“And what do you intend to do with an ‘animal’ like me?” Alastor inquired. “Don’t ‘spose you’re planning to turn me into the law?”

That made him laugh, shaking his head in hilarity. “Now, that would be such a waste! Oh, no, no, no. I don’t want the law to be having their hands on such an interesting creature such as yourself!

“If that isn’t the case, what then?”

“Oh, no reason in particular!” he claimed, waving a hand insouciantly. “I just thought you needed assistance and I simply provided it.”

The intent that was obvious behind those words was made very clear to Alastor, and he narrowed his eyes as he huffed in amused skepticism. Setting aside the cloth and straightening out his vest, he remarked knowingly, “I’m not sure what kind of fool you take me for, but even I know things come with a price, especially with a character as ‘esteemed’ as yourself. So I’d suggest we don’t beat around the bush, shall we?”

The gangster didn’t reply immediately, only looking back at Alastor with an inquisitive stare, probably wondering to himself why he wasn’t afraid or even the least bit intimidated at what could be coming in store for him. But Alastor wasn’t one to be easily _browbeaten_.

Then a smile pulled at the Big Apple’s lips, and he hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm, perhaps. But all in due time, my friend! A good deal should never be rushed, after all! Besides, it’s late. Don’t want to keep the wife waiting up.”

A deal, he say?

“And what makes you so sure I’ll take up on it?”

The Big Apple’s grin cracked in excitement as he, without a doubt, sensed his sudden apprehension. “Oh, trust me. All desperate fools will take whatever they can get when Lady Luck’s not on their side.”

_Who knows about gangsters. Best not to question whatever they do._

Husker’s words rang about in his head, and Alastor had nothing to say to that, more so now that it was obvious that this man was definitely scheming on how to make good use of him now that he knew his little secret. This irked him, as a deal wasn’t something he favoured. He was comfortable to be working mostly on his own accord, the satisfaction of being the one in control, something he knew he wouldn’t have if he had to be of service to someone, especially the Big Apple. But he was smart to know when to hold his tongue, as he was sure that any form of defiance shown by him in his presence would strike him down immediately. Gangsters weren’t exactly an easy crowd to deal with, the more so if it was a damn mob boss.

But even then, there was still that linger of curiosity in him at this interesting turn of events, and – he’ll be damned – he actually wanted to know what will happen from here on out. He figured it would be somewhat entertaining to walk on thin ice with this, and if need be, quite the challenge for him to figure out how to make it work towards his favour.

All he could now was leave it to chance.

“You can let me off here,” Alastor said suddenly, noticing the familiar path that would lead to home. “I won’t trouble you to drive the distance.”

“Ah! A careful one, aren’t you? Don’t need to worry, my friend! I don’t do the whole ‘finding out where you live’ business unless I wanted your head!”

Alastor once more said nothing to that.

The Big Apple used his cane to poke at the driver’s seat and raised a hand indicating for the vehicle to be stopped, which it did. Alastor was startled to know how easily he was being let go, but Husker’s words reminded him to not question it, and he coolly got out, hiding his relief that he was finally out of that confined space.

“Appreciate the ride,” he said, grin flashing.

“Sorry, but I don’t think I caught your name.”

Normally, one wouldn’t be in the absolute right mind to give their name to a gangster, unless there wasn’t much of a choice. But not Alastor, since he’s considered that he’s about as exposed himself as much as he could and that this definitely wouldn’t be the last time he’ll probably come face to face with the man. Besides, he already discarded anonymity when he became a radio host, so even if he didn’t give his name, it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to be found out.

“Alastor Carlon!” he confidently answered, as if he had nothing to lose. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The gangster nodded in acknowledgment, but once more his lips split into a chilling grin, filled with malicious and cunning purpose.

“Until the next time, Mr. Carlon.”

With finality, Alastor closed the door and watched as the car drove off into the night, making sure that it was out of sight before he started on the trek home. He was quite ashamed of himself to admit that the last promise stunned him, and the fact that he’d been let go just like that made him feel an unease he wasn’t all too comfortable with. His nerves were tingling with alert, and he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder ever so often. He’s had enough surprises for tonight, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with another one, all too aware of the exhaustion that was creeping in. The coast seemed to be clear, but he couldn’t be relaxed just yet.

After a long while, his house came to view, and he sighed in relief. All he wanted to do was take a nice soak to rid himself of the blood and grime, and then get to patching up anything that needed tending to. Maybe a shot or two of _corn_ to calm the nerves.

But as much as he had his mind set on no more surprises for the night, it seemed that the notion wasn’t agreeable with him.

“Alastor?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELP! You got what you guys been looking forward to for a while! Alastor and Lucifer finally meet in the strangest circumstances, and that definitely isn't going to be the last time as it seems Lucifer has generated a very strong and keen curiosity for the interesting killer he chanced upon! And Alastor simply cannot catch a break and who knows what else does the night have in store for him? Guess we'll have to find out!
> 
> I hope everyone's doing well out there! I've been noticing a lot of down moments in the fandom and it's been really hitting hard for me because I really want nothing more than for many to be at peace with themselves and still be able to share in their love for this fandom. If anyone's going through a tough time, please know that you aren't alone and I am willing to hear you out if you need! If you ever feel like you want to talk to me, you can hit me up at my Twitter @MuseVlt . It'll be swell for me to get to have a conversation with you, so don't be shy!
> 
> With that, just know I send all my love to you, my lovely dear readers, and I appreciate your love and support in return for both me and Smiling Man. If you are free, please do drop some kudos and comments because it always never fails to put a smile on my face! I can't wait to hear from all of you!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Socking - Punch  
> Sap - Pitiful person  
> Trap - Mouth  
> Mitts - Hands  
> Pipe - Throat  
> Dormy - Dormant  
> Snowbird - Cocaine addict  
> Nose-candy - Cocaine  
> Hightail - Hurry  
> Elbows - Police  
> Crummy - Lousy  
> Hayburner - Gas-guzzling vehicle  
> Frau - Wife  
> Egg - Man  
> Big Shot - Important person  
> Off the track - Become insanely violent  
> Browbeaten - Intimidated  
> Corn - Bourbon


	17. A Fluky Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

When Lucifer left in the evening with a fatherly hug and a kiss to her cheek that did nothing to soothe her muddled mind, Charlie got right to work, cooping herself up in her study to look through all her notes and rewrite her proposal to take on an entirely new format. She supposed making it seem like a charity idea wasn’t the right way for her to play her cards, so she opted for a different direction and turned it into more of a business outlook. Vaggie had stuck around, bringing tea and discussing though all of the planned points with her. But eventually, she could not keep up with her pace and was slowly succumbing to sleep, retiring only after Charlie assured her that it was fine.

Come past midnight, and it was only then she was satisfied with her revisions. Craving a breather of fresh air after having been at it for so long, she sat out on the front steps of her porch. The cold crisp night air bit her skin, and she pulled her robe tighter against the chill, but its freshness relaxed her and she could feel the tension almost blowing away with the breeze. In the silence of the night, she could hear are the cicadas chirping their night-time song and watch the moon shine in all its beautiful glory.

But breaking the serenity of nocturnal nature was the sound of shuffling that came down the pavement.

Curious, she got up from her porch and took careful steps towards the source, being extra careful in case it was some stranger in the neighbourhood. But from the distance her sight could see, she could make out under the light of the streetlamp the familiar silhouette of Alastor. Confused, she wondered what the man was doing out so late.

But that question was gone from thought when she finally became aware of the state that he was in.

“Alastor?!”

He clearly hadn’t noticed her at first, his head suddenly snapping to her direction so fast that she thought he could have almost broken his neck. His eyes were wide and his glasses were missing, but that detail was overshadowed by the fact that his face was covered in streaks of dried blood, with splotches splattered across his suit. One arm was clutched at his side as he was hunched in obvious pain, and he looked like he was going to collapse anytime soon.

Charlie was at a complete loss for words, her hands covering her agape mouth as she could only stare at him in shock. And it seemed that Alastor was the same, staring back in surprise and confusion, but then it suddenly morphed into one of his signature smiling faces, and he became an almost entirely different person altogether.

“Miss Charlie! Whatever are you doing out here so late at night? Don’t you know it isn’t safe for a _dame_?”

He’s the one covered in blood and was in obvious pain, and he’s more concerned that she’s out here in the night? As much as she should be flattered, she thought it absolutely ridiculous!

“Oh my God, don’t give me that _baloney_ now!” she rebuked as she hurried towards him. “What happened to you?! You’re covered in blood!”

Alastor looked down at his entire body as if he did not seem to realise that it was filthy with blood, and he gave a very sheepish ‘ha-ha’ as he brushed off invisible dust from his jacket. “Ah, got jumped by a couple of hoodlums after a night out and nearly got _cooled_ ,” he explained so casually, as though they were just simply talking about the weather. “Quite unfortunate! But nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Charlie clearly wasn’t having any of that. The man looked like he just got out of a bloody fistfight that he clearly didn’t win, and she was actually getting quite upset that he was just brushing it off as if it was nothing.

“Al, you need to get yourself to the hospital!” she insisted, shaking her head in exasperation. “Let me take you there!”

But strangely, the smiling man’s face broke just the slightest bit, and Charlie could see a flash of hesitation in his eyes. He raised a hand and shook it in refusal. “No need, darling! That’s just quite unnecessary for me.”

Why was he rejecting the idea? Clearly, he wasn’t in the best condition, and one in his state should be making his way to the hospital instead of back home. Charlie got really confused in a panic and wondered if he must be _jingle-brained_ to not think that was the right thing for him to do now.

But then Alastor continued firmly, “It’s just a couple of bruises here and there. It’ll heal in no time!”

Sensing how adamant he was, Charlie did not persist, but still, she wasn’t set on letting this man be left all bloody and bruised. “Well, at least let me patch you up real quick,” she told him sternly. “You need proper tending to.”

Alastor looked about ready to refuse once more, but he stopped short when he saw the look on Charlie’s face that showed she meant business and she was probably going to heckle him if he dared say ‘no’ to her. He kept silent for a few minutes, seemingly weighing his options, but eventually he began to be amused at her request, and sighed in defeat.

“If you insist.”

In silence, they made the path up to her door, with Charlie slowing her pace to match his and her hands hovered and prepared to grab hold should he potentially collapse, which he didn’t. Once they were inside, it was straight to the living room and having him seated on the couch while she went to get the necessary equipment to treat him – a towel and first-aid kit from the bathroom, and a bowl of water from the kitchen. It wasn’t much to properly treat the injuries he might have, but it was still better than nothing.

When Charlie returned to the living room, she found him still seated on the edge of the couch, silently looking at the décor aimlessly.

“Alastor?” she called out softly from the door, which he turned to look at her. “Are you alright?”

His small smile grew into a grin as he shrugged. “Just thought it’s a bit of a laugh that first time I get invited in, it’s gotta be like this.”

She realised then that it was indeed the first time he’s actually been inside her house, and he was probably nervous and unsure of how to act considering the situation they found themselves to be in and that it was really very late at night. He probably felt quite out of place in the setting, and she started feeling so too.

“Ah, well. What to do?” Charlie said simply as she took a seat beside him on the couch and placed her equipment on the table in front of them.

“Didn’t take you for a doctor,” he remarked, eyeing the items curiously.

“I’ve learnt basic first-aid back in school,” she explained, taking the cloth and dipping it in the bowl of water. “Thought it might come in handy for when I find radio hosts walking back home late at night looking absolutely _gashoused_.”

Alastor chuckled lightly at her jest, and she allowed a small smile to grace her lips for a short second before turning serious again, instructing him to remove his suit jacket, which he did so obediently. One look at his dress shirt and vest and she saw that there wasn’t any heavy staining of blood, so she was assured that there weren’t any wounds there, much to her relief.

Wringing out the excess liquid from the cloth, she turned to find him distracted with looking at some framed photos on the wall nearby. He didn’t realise that she was reaching to turn him to face her until he felt her fingers on his cheek.

Without warning, Alastor suddenly flinched upon contact and whipped his head to stare at her in shock, pulling his head away and out of reach from her grasp, and it made her freeze in surprise.

He flinched?

His eyes had looked wide in apprehension, absolutely guarded until he was suddenly aware of his action, to which he immediately cleared his throat almost nervously. “Ah, my apologies, dear,” he said through a strained smile. “I’m not really much used to people touching me.”

Charlie thought that statement to be odd, considering that this wasn’t really the first time they’ve touched each other, what with their dates where her hand would be on his offered arm, and the day on her front porch where he had put his arm around her and brought her to his side. He had always been the one to initiate such ministrations and so far having shown no aversion to making casual contact, so it was a big surprise to learn that, strangely, he admitted to being so resistant to being touched himself.

It probably had something to do with him getting jumped on. He was probably still shaken about it, and she knew very well that such a thing could do that to a person. She could only feel a flush of embarrassment of having potentially upset him with what she had done.

“I’m sorry about that, Al. But I really need to clean you up right now. Would it be alright?”

The cautiousness in his eyes suddenly shifted to one of surprise. He looked at her as though he couldn’t quite grasp the thought that she had actually asked his permission, as if it was a new and foreign thing to him. And his smile, which had been strained, started to relax as he teased, “Well, ‘doctor’s orders’, I suppose. You can go ahead, doll.”

Hearing the sincerity in his tone lightened her heart a bit, enough for Charlie to roll her eyes at his little joke, and more so relieved that he has granted her permission. Bearing in mind to be extra careful, she proceeded to gently dab at his forehead. He didn’t flinch now and only stayed still, though she noticed his eyes were watching her carefully as she tended to him.

As she cleaned, Charlie began to notice something out of place. There had been quite a lot of blood on him, but she can’t seem to find any wound where it could have come from. His face was unmarred, and so was his head, and his shirt clearly showed that there wasn’t any injury there.

“How are you covered in blood?” she questioned before she could stop herself.

“Ah, well… There may have been a _chiv_ involved.”

“Alastor!”

“Don’t be alarmed, dear! One of them got cut and I just happened to be in the way when his blood spilled! _That’s the crop_!”

It somehow didn’t make sense to Charlie, and it only left her feeling more confused at this current situation. What was it about Alastor right now that seemed so off? Despite the smile that was still there, it wasn’t alike his usual cheery disposition. He seemed pretty shaken up, and obviously trying to hide it behind a nonchalant façade.

But Charlie sighed, feeling it not her place to _put the screws on_. He already seemed quite tetchy, so she didn’t want to agitate him further.

Her hand travelled down his face, and he closed his eyes as she sponged over his lids and trailed the bridge of his nose and then to his lips. The whole time, Charlie’s gaze following where the cloth traced every contour on the light tan of smooth skin, and she slowed as she became lost in thought.

She didn’t know what was she thinking at that moment, but she suddenly felt drawn into his face. How chiselled his features were on his slim structure, how thin his lips were when it was rested, and without his glasses, his eyes seemed to be as wide and lively as ever. She knew that, without a doubt, Alastor was quite the _looker_ , and she herself admitted that she thought him to be handsome, especially with the way he smiled and how animated his eyes always were when he could speak her ears off. But it was rare for her to catch him in a quiet moment, making her reminisce that one time she did on that night by the Mississippi River when he had been watching her with a thoughtful gaze. There was a certain mystique to him when the air around them was serene like this, and his aura – although unreadable at the moment – only tempted her in deeper.

This close, admiring in silence, had he always almost seemed so… beautiful?

But alas, Charlie’s state of reflection did not last long, as Alastor’s eyes opened then, piercing orbs looking right at hers and almost boring into her. She let out a soft yelp, hand pulling back from his face, and she felt a hot blush spread over her cheeks.

“Saw something you like?” he asked, but there was an obvious flirtatious undertone to his question.

“Um… sorry. Got a bit distracted there,” she murmured shyly, and Alastor said nothing as his smiling gaze remained. What was it about those eyes that spoke a lot and yet so little at the same time? It held her in but yet the intensity always drove her to look away meekly under the weight of it.

Shaking off the thought, she dropped the cloth into the bowl, the water turning dirty with red, and took the towel. He leaned forward to let her dry off all the wetness of his face, going about it as gently as she did before.

“Anywhere else?” she inquired to his bodily state.

“Just a couple of bruises on the stomach.”

“Let me _get a slant_.”

Alastor pulled back once more, this time raising his hands and shaking his head in refusal. “No need!” he told her in a rush. “I don’t think that’s quite appropriate when we’re alone.”

Hearing that immediately sent Charlie to be overwhelmed in total embarrassment, and she slapped a hand to her cheek in mortification. How could she have let that slip her mind? To think that she had insinuated for him to take off his shirt for her to see. How absolutely fluttering!

“Ah, you’re right. Well, I got you cleaned up as much as I could. I should probably get an ice bag for that nasty bruise on your head,” she said in a hurry and eager to leave this sudden tension. She quickly gathered her things and headed out to put them back, taking her time in preparing an ice bag with a few deep breaths to relax herself and bring her to a calmer state before she could potentially embarrass herself any further.

But any nerves went away quickly when she returned to the living room and noticed Alastor hunching over, his head hanging.

“Al?”

At the sound of her voice, he only hummed and looked up to her with a glassy daze. “Is everything okay?” she asked worriedly.

A slow nod and a sluggish shrug. “Just quite tired, dear,” he explained, starting to stifle a yawn. “Nothing a lil’ sleep can’t fix.”

He didn’t look ‘quite tired’; he looked absolutely exhausted. Dark shadows were creeping in around his eyes, and his posture was slumped that he was sure to pass out on the floor any second. That made Charlie’s worry only grow. Judging from the look of him, he was in no condition to walk, and he needed some rest as soon as possible. 

“Um… If you are really tired, I would insist you spend the night here.”

The sluggishness in his stance suddenly disappeared, and he seemed to perk up as his eyes widened. He looked absolutely confused and surprised, which only reignited the embarrassment she felt before. “On the couch, I mean!” she quickly added, but it did nothing to quell the sudden tension once more.

“Miss Charlie, are you really offering me a night here?” Alastor asked slowly, as though to make sure that he was hearing things right.

“Just on the couch! It’s fine!” she blurted out, absolutely flustered at this point and half-tempted to bite her tongue before she could say anything else without thinking. “At this rate, you’d probably drop before you even make it out my lawn!”

His head tilted in amusement at her ridiculous statement, and she wanted nothing more than to hide her face away in shame. Taking a huge defeated breath, she sighed, “I’m just… worried about you in this state. But if you wish to go back home, at least let me be sure to get you to your door.”

Alastor peered at her in silence, his eyes showing that he considering the offer with deep thought. Charlie only remained quiet, once more scolding herself internally for not putting thoughts to her words and for the cringe-worthy tension she had brought upon herself.

But then Alastor again gave her a gentle smile.

“Now I simply can’t have you walking alone back to your house in the dead of night. If it’s fine with you, I wouldn’t mind just sleeping on this here couch.”

With that being settled, Charlie set about to get him a spare pillow and blanket from her room, and told him to make himself comfortable. As she waited for him to get settled, she didn’t feel right to leave now, still worried about him in his hurt condition, but knew that she should allow him to rest to recover. 

“I’m in the first room on the left to the stairs. Just knock on my door if you need anything, okay?”

Alastor nodded in understanding, lying down on his side so that he could hold the ice bag to the back of his head with ease. Charlie could already see his lids drooping slowly, and she knew she shouldn’t bother him any longer.

“Goodnight, Alastor,” she said softly, lingering at the entryway, and it was just as she was turning off the lights that she heard him mumble softly, “Goodnight, Charlie.”

Back in her room, she got ready for bed with her mind busy with so many thoughts. She thought about her new revisions for the hotel plans and her need for a new plan of action to get its name out there and attract both potential investors and patrons. And, of course, she continued worrying about Alastor in his state, unable to shake off the fear and concern she felt for him and only hoping that he would be alright with a good night’s sleep. She would definitely need to check up on him properly come morning.

But just as she thought she had her mind in order and was finally ready to settle herself into bed and wait for sleep, she realised something.

He had just called her by her name. Not ‘dear’ or ‘darling’, or ‘Miss Charlie’ as she had been used to.

Just simple and plain ‘Charlie’.

She can only hope sleep would still come despite the sudden fluttering of her heart.

* * *

People often have this assumption that their home was a sanctuary, where one could be safe from the dangers that lurked in the outside.

Where you could simply lock your doors and keep your windows tightly shut to ensure that said dangers would never be allowed entrance inside and kept out where it should belong.

But that wouldn’t be the case anymore if one had decidedly invited that danger in, would it?

In the darkness of the hallway, Alastor found himself standing in front of the door that led to Charlie’s bedroom. He was still not in the best condition, but the thought simply didn’t cross his mind at that moment, filled with a sudden rush of excitement and anticipation that he was finally where he wanted to be, and oh so very close. His eyes stared at the door so intently that he could almost bore a hole through the wood from how hot his gaze felt. He could feel his breathing was steady but deep with the rushed thrumming of his heart that vibrated in his veins. And he wasn’t too sure but were his hands trembling in the itch to finally put them to good use on the darling in bed?

How trusting was she that not only had she let him in and tended to his injuries, but even offered him a night on her couch just because she was worried about him being by himself?

It was so adorable, as much as it was so absolutely naïve!

Charlie Magne basically made herself a lamb to the slaughter, serving herself to him on a silver platter, gifting his desires that he’d been harbouring for her for so long.

In a shuddering breath, he brought a hand to the doorknob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am OBVIOUSLY a big fan of cliffhangers and torturing you guys with suspense, if you can tell! :D
> 
> Guys, let me tell you that Smiling Man is about to move on to a new arc and the story's just going to get a lot more complicated from here on, so please bear with me as I take the time to settle the future chapters and tie up some loose plotlines! I need to make sure it's perfect for you dear readers, after all! In the meantime, I am also working on various other works, including an upcoming Great Gatsby AU one-shot and a wedding one-shot!
> 
> If you want to be updated with all the upcoming chapters and works in the making, or you just want to see me tweet a lot of bullshit from my chaotic mind, follow me on my Twitter @MuseVlt ! Hit me up for a chat while you do! I'd love to have conversations with you guys!
> 
> All your lovely kudos and comments feed my writer soul and I absolutely LOVE reading them! Some of you are seriously so creative with them that I end up reading it more than I read the actual chapter HAHA! I appreciate it so much, and feel free to drop in more kudos and comments! Thank you kindly!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Dame - Lady  
> Baloney - Nonsense  
> Cooled - Knocked out  
> Jingle-brained - Addled  
> Gashoused - Roughed up  
> Chiv - Sharp weapon  
> That's the crop - That's all to it  
> Put the screws on - Question  
> Looker - Attractive person  
> Get a slant - Take a look


	18. One Foot In The Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Charlie stirred, groaning in irritation from having to be torn out of slumber, still in sleepy confusion as to what was going on right now.

It was morning, with the first light of day shining brightly through her half-drawn windows. Sitting up on her bed, she yawned for a bit and rubbed the sands of sleep from her eyes until she finally came to a full conscience to be aware of the incessant knocking that was coming from her door, which had been what had woken her up.

Half-dragging herself out of bed, she sloppily put on her robe and headed to the door, but she wasn’t able to get it open fully before Vaggie immediately ran inside, pushing her back and looking absolutely terrified and frazzled.

“He’s here.”

“Huh? What?” Charlie asked in confusion, mind still heavily addled with sleep to know what was going on.

Gripping her shoulders tightly and bringing her face closer to hers, Vaggie whispered harshly, “Alastor Carlon! He’s on our couch!!”

Immediately, she shot awake when she heard his name, and the memory of late last night hit the forefront of her mind at full force. “Oh!” she exclaimed, quickly moving to head downstairs, with Vaggie following closely behind. When they reached the living room, she softened her movements, not wanting to make a single noise, and she peeped inside.

There was Alastor, deep asleep on the couch. He had taken his dress shirt and vest off at some point, left in only a white cotton undershirt for comfort, and part of the blanket was draped on his lower half, with the rest slipping off onto the floor. The ice bag he had been given was now in a bowl filled with water, having melted through the night.

Charlie tiptoed quietly to take the bowl away, and she also carefully covered part of his top half with the blanket. He shifted a bit at the slight movement, but simply let out a sigh and continued soundly sleeping.

She couldn’t help but smile at the sight, thinking how adorable he looked.

Explaining the events of last night in the kitchen had been quite a tedious task for the start of the day. Vaggie was absolutely _steamed up_ to know that Charlie had brought him into the house so late in the night, and even more so when she was informed that he’d been bloodied and out of a fight as well. She scolded Charlie for not thinking about how dangerous it was to bring him in, talking about how he wasn’t really someone they could trust enough to let in the house and going through all the possible bad scenarios that could have occurred, with being killed in their sleep topping that list.

Charlie did not brush off Vaggie’s reasonings, understanding why she was really upset about it since she was still very untrusting of their neighbour, and she did feel guilty for stressing her out like this. She could do nothing more than to reassure her that nothing went on, that she only tried to help by tending to his injuries – though it’d been more giving him a wipe-down than anything else – and letting him stay the night when it was clear he was close to passing out.

It had taken Vaggie a while to calm down, to which she could only sigh.

After getting dressed and getting started on breakfast, Vaggie stuck close to her in the kitchen, not enthusiastic to venture out upon knowing the presence of the unexpected guest. They were just about finished setting up the breakfast table when a shuffling from the entryway was heard, and Vaggie stiffened in alert while Charlie perked in attention as Alastor walked in.

“Good morning, ladies,” he greeted with a tired smile.

To make himself a bit more decent, he had put on his unbuttoned dress shirt, which was still dirty with the traces of blood that immediately alleviated Vaggie’s high-strung nerves, building the urge to go into defense. Charlie noticed this immediately and held her friend’s arm in a show of comfort, but looked at Alastor with a smile as she greeted a ‘good morning’ back.

“We’ve just set breakfast,” she told him, gesturing to the table. “Please join us, Al.”

“So that’s what smelled delicious,” he noted as he eyed the spread with a cheery smile. “You’re too kind, dear. And don’t mind if I do!”

And so, the three of them took a seat at the table, with Charlie sitting in between the both of them to give Vaggie the space she wanted away from Alastor. He didn’t seem to notice this and was only looking at the array of dishes set on the table. Charlie went ahead to fill their cups with freshly-brewed tea from the teapot, and she suddenly noted his smile dropping just the slightest as he eyed his cup with a hesitant look.

“No coffee?”

“Ah… Sorry, no. We only have tea.”

“Ah,” he replied, quite unenthusiastic as he picked up his offered cup and gave the contents a stare before taking a sip, and his lips immediately pursed when it hit his tongue. “Not really a fan of _noodle juice_ , you see.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know,” she said sheepishly. “I could look for something else to make you?”

Before she could get out of her seat, he raised a hand at her offer and gave a comforting smile. “Quite alright, darling. Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll still get it down,” he assured her and took another sip of tea with less-obvious disdain.

Eating breakfast together, it was mainly a silent affair on Vaggie’s part while Charlie and Alastor did most of the talking, with the conversation mostly having been about Alastor’s insistence to head on to work soon as he should and Charlie completely rebutting the thought and demanding that he took the day off considering his condition, which he had surprisingly agreed to after getting that _earful_.

Vaggie could only watch the scene in her quietude, her mind racing with so many confusing thoughts.

Just how does Charlie seem so at ease with this? She had been so sure of herself to let him into their house in the night with the bloody mess that he was in. Her stomach lurched at the sight of those bloodstains, and she could only try to force herself to not let her mind wander to dark thoughts of what he could have done to have gotten those on him – the thought of him possibly _bumping off_ someone lingering like a parasite in her head.

She supposed she should be glad that nothing had happened to both of them in their sleep while he had been around, but still, it was scary to think of the possibility.

“You know, with all this talk of that hotel of yours, I’ve never actually seen it for myself. How is it like now?”

Vaggie hadn’t been paying much attention to the conversation until she heard him mention the hotel, unsure when the topic had moved on to that. Immediately she stiffened, because knowing Charlie, she could expect the next words spoken.

“Would you like to see it, Al?”

* * *

“So! This is the ‘Happy Hotel’!”

Alastor stood in the middle of the foyer, hands on his hips as he took in the sight of the room. Vaggie lingered by the door while Charlie stood beside him and looked around as he did, though self-consciously at the fact that it was admittedly quite barely-furnished. What with the slow progress they’ve been having, it hadn’t been much on the forefront of Charlie’s mind to properly furnish the hotel as of yet, and she wished she had. It looked like an absolute _dive_ right now.

“Hm… Not too shabby,” he remarked nonchalantly, though the undertone held just the slightest hint that he seemed unimpressed. “Could be cosier.”

A scoff sounded by Vaggie, but it went unnoticed when Charlie replied, “Yes, it could be… It’s still in need of a bit of sprucing up.”

The sound of steps coming down the stairs and Angel Dust appeared looking dishevelled and clearly just gotten out of bed. “Those butlers of yours here too?” he asked Charlie in a heavy yawn, stretching lazily. “I’m starv- OH!”

His words trailed off when he noticed Alastor, who looked at him all _bug-eyed_ at his quite sloppy appearance. “Well, if it isn’t Smiles!” Angel exclaimed, immediately perking up with excitement and losing all traces of sleep.

“’Smiles’?” Alastor repeated in question, cocking his head curiously, and Charlie immediately panicked. “Oh, it’s nothing!” she waved it off immediately, not wanting to divulge information of their inside-joke of a nickname for the radio host. “Don’t think anything of it!”

The smirk on Alastor’s face made it seemed that he wanted to be in on the little joke, but thankfully for her, he didn’t press it any further, shrugging before he walked off to take a look around the nearby rooms.

He was in a better condition than he’d been yesterday, walking upright again and looking fresh after having a proper clean-up back at his house. It was still a bit off-putting for Charlie to see him without his _cheaters_ , which would probably be a while until he could head to the optometrist to get a new pair. Being able to look directly into his eyes without any obstruction proved to be a task for her dear heart, and she wondered if she ever realised how truly intense his gaze was whenever he cast his sights on her, and could only chide herself at how meek she must seem to him for her to not be able to hold his look in return.

Deep in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Vaggie looking at her in worry, her entire demeanour clearly on guard at the foreign presence among them. But before she could make a move to go to her side, Alastor had already beaten her there first.

“So, where is your hotel staff?” Alastor asked Charlie, snapping her out of her little daydream.

“Ah… Well…” she flushed, and she clasped her hands together nervously as she gestured to the side, to which Alastor turned to look at Vaggie, who stood with her hands on her hips and eyed him back with a narrowed stare. 

“Oh, ho, ho…” he remarked in a deadpan tone. “You’re going to need more than that.”

Angel was seated on a nearby couch, watching the man boredly, but a cheeky smile appeared when Alastor approached him.

“And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?” Alastor asked with an enthusiastic grin.

With pure smugness, Angel replied, “I can suck your dick.”

The look of unmasked shock and disgust of the now-gobsmacked Alastor was absolutely comical.

“HA! No.”

Angel snickered at seeing Alastor so thrown off. “Your loss,” he teased as the man began to walk away with a shaken grin, his wide eyes twitching in revulsion.

Heading back to Charlie’s side, he re-composed himself and asked, “Charlie, dear? Could I perhaps speak to you in private?”

Charlie would have been distracted by the fact that he called her by just her name again if it hadn’t been for the solemnity of his tone. It’s quite rare that she’s ever seen Alastor be quite serious while he smiled.

“Oh, of course,” she said and pointed to a room. “We can talk in my office.”

Vaggie was about to protest as the both of them started making their way to her office, and was about one foot in to rush after them until she was stopped by a sudden grab on her arm. She whipped her head around to find Angel giving her a look of utmost disapproval.

“Hey!” she half-yelled and attempted to pull herself away from his grip, but instead yelped when he dragged her down to the couch beside him. “ _Qué diablos haces_?”

Angel pointed a warning finger at her face. “ _Tagliare la merda_ ,” he retaliated her Spanish with his smooth Italian, stunning her into silence. “Don’t be an insect and keep following them around the whole time. You ain’t some clingy puppy, babe.”

“I’m not!” she protested sharply.

“Then don’t act like it. Give ‘em some privacy, you prude!”

A string of colourful Spanish followed between the two, and Charlie was largely unaware of the small altercation that was going on outside her office. But Alastor had caught on a bit as he was closing the door, and he couldn’t resist snickering at Miss Vaggie’s little _ing-bing_. He definitely needed to give kudos to Mr Angel there for once again ensuring his privacy with Charlie.

“Sorry that I don’t have an extra chair to offer you,” Charlie apologised, embarrassed at how empty her office was. “As you can tell, the hotel isn’t really that done up yet.”

“That’s quite alright. I’ll just stand here,” he assured casually, coming to lean against her desk beside her chair, and gesturing for her to take a seat there. “Now, then. How about you tell me what’s been going with this place?”

That made Charlie quirk a brow in confusion. “Pardon me?”

“Come now. You’ve been at this for what? A couple of months already? And it still hasn’t been getting anywhere?” he deplored, gesturing to the room around them. “What seems to be the problem, doll?”

And just like that, an intent conversation ensued, with Charlie pouring everything out to Alastor about how it’s been a real struggle for the hotel lately, almost turning into a real _tearjerker_ for her. She didn’t get into the full details of the wretched Mr. Alfonse, to not cause any unnecessary grief to herself from that stressful situation and what had followed it. She only barely scratched the surface on that incident, but she got more into detail about how it’s just been increasingly difficult for her to find sponsors or potential patrons. She even told him of how she spent the whole of last night to amend her proposal to take on a more business-like format instead of a charity one, knowing that the revision would probably be of more interest to the right money men, but she was still stuck in a rut on how to approach it.

“I’m in a real _tight corner_ , Al,” Charlie sighed, cradling her head in her hands as she stared at the floor dejectedly. “I’m not sure what to do at this point.”

“Well, darling, if I may interject, going door-to-door with this plan of yours isn’t going to get you anywhere!” Alastor told her with brutal honesty. “You need to get word out to the _numbers_! Get them to listen to you all at once!”

Alastor did have a point, and he had phrased it far better than Lucifer had the previous day. At this rate, going to people one-by-one would probably take up a whole lot of time before she could possibly find even one who would be interested.

“And how do you suppose I do that?”

Alastor brought a finger to his chin, tapping it there as his eyes looked up in thought, and Charlie followed suit, looking elsewhere as she tried to figure out a solution in her head. But it was useless, and everything just came out blank. Not that she was expecting something to come up in a snap, but still it had her feeling much more of a _crumb_.

But while that may have been the case for her, it wasn’t for Alastor, who suddenly snapped his fingers as an imaginary lightbulb appeared over his head.

“Well, if I may suggest, the radio station has slots for some interviews on our broadcasts. If it’s _keen_ for you.”

Charlie was pulled out of her self-pitying state and her head shot up to look at him, enkindled by what he had told her. “You’re suggesting that I go on the radio and advertise the hotel?” she queried, wanting to make sure she wasn’t guessing out of her ass.

“Well, why not?” he affirmed, the no-nonsense smile growing wider. “Everybody tunes in to the radio! The airwaves hit the masses! Sounds like a _swell_ plan!”

It did sound like a _swell_ plan, but she wasn’t even sure how she could get it done in the first place. “How ever could I get myself on the radio?”

Alastor chuckled at the genuinity of Charlie’s question, and he smirked proudly as he straightened his bowtie and he gestured to himself. “Darling, you happen to be talking to New Orleans’ favourite radio host! Don’t mean to brag but I’ve probably gotten tons of listeners tuning in that it could fill up the Yankee Stadium! I suppose I could cash in a few favours to liven things up, so I’d say that you’ve already got one foot in the door.”

As much as she should be eye-rolling at his peacock-ing, she was more distracted with that promise that had been given, which sounded absolutely too good to be true, and she still wasn’t sure whether to believe it. “Alastor… You would really do that for me?” she asked to be sure, again not wanting to put her hopes too high on him.

Alastor’s grin made a show and he nodded confidently. “Yes, indeedy! I see big things coming your way, and who else better to help you than I?”

And just then, his grin started to soften into a more thoughtful smile, and Charlie swore that he almost looked the slightest bit bashful, like he wasn’t used to being put into a situation where had to say what he said next.

“Besides, you could take it as a favour that I’d owe you for taking care of me last night. That should _rate_ it.”

Charlie had already been on the edge of the seat as she listened attentively and clung on to every word he uttered, her insides bubbling up so much like a shaken bottle of champagne.

“So,” she heard Alastor say through her racing thoughts, “What do you think?”

Eventually, she said ‘screw it’ to calm poise and couldn’t resist it any longer, hopping onto her feet and squealing in delight as she leaned in towards him. He was clearly taken aback by her sudden closeness, leaning back slightly as he watched her with wide curious eyes.

“This is amazing!” she sing-songed with an excited twinkle in her eyes as she bounced on her feet. “Oh, Alastor! Thank you so much!”

Her heart was beating like a _bangtail_ shoo-ing in for first place at the wonderful news. She would have chided herself for how childish she may seem right now, not exactly acting in the grace she’d always been so mindful of putting on when around his presence. But the thought didn’t really cross her mind, just being simply elated with the news that she was finally once again taking a step in what could possibly be the right direction.

And while she was jumping for joy to herself, Alastor could only watch the sparkling glee in her eyes and the way she was squishing her blushing cheeks in excitement. He was still as he looked at her with his smile, something twitching inside him from seeing the sickly sweetness of the sight before him. He wasn’t used to such exuberant displays of emotion, and it made him feel _balled up_ and unsure of how to make of it.

Yet, he couldn’t deny the admiration he felt from watching the sight. Charlie Magne had one of the most wonderful smiles he’s ever seen, and he’d be damned if he didn’t take great pride in knowing he brought one to her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all thought I was going to have Alastor bump off Charlie in the last chapter?
> 
> HA! 
> 
> No.
> 
> This story is close to only be HALF done, so that ain't going to happen (anytime soon perhaps...). But things take a turn with Alastor deciding to help Charlie with the hotel! My, I wonder how interesting this little situation would work out for both of them. I guess we'll just have to wait and see!
> 
> I'm honestly at the point where the pressure is on to progress the story as smoothly as possible, and that takes a lot of research and days of pouring over the right word to craft a chapter. Sometimes a chapter takes about 2-3 days for me to complete, and it's tricky to make my hands type fast while my mind is running faster. Honestly, I've been really touched by the support that I've been receiving from you guys, and getting to read all your interesting comments and even getting to talk to some of you on Twitter. It's actually really touching to see fanart of Smiling Man and having people telling me how much it has inspired them to write or create art. It's what keeps me going, and it really warms my heart to know that Smiling Man can put a smile on your faces!
> 
> Once again, I thank you all so much for your kind kudos and comments and always appreciate reading every single one of them. Please do feel free to leave some before you go, and if you ever want to chat with me, hit me up on my Twitter @MuseVlt !
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Steamed up - Angry  
> Noodle juice - Tea  
> Earful - Warning  
> Bumping off - Killing  
> Dive - A low-down, cheap sort of place  
> Bug-eyed - Wide-eyed with astonishment  
> Cheaters - Glasses  
> Ing-bing - Fit  
> Tearjerker - Sentimental story  
> Tight corner - Dilemma  
> Numbers - People  
> Crumb - Hopeless  
> Keen - Attractive  
> Swell - Wonderful  
> Rate - Count for something  
> Bangtail - Racehorse  
> Balled up - Confused
> 
> Spanish translation:
> 
> Qué diablos haces? - What the hell are you doing?
> 
> Italian translation:
> 
> Tagliare la merda - Cut the shit


	19. Raising Spirits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

As promised, Alastor had talked to the head of the radio station and managed to secure her a slot for airtime on his talk show, of which he would be the one personally interviewing her. Upon receiving the good news, Charlie got right to work, drafting out a script for her upcoming interview. It wasn’t for another few days, but she wasted no time. She needed to make good use of the time limit she had for her slot, and she needed to make sure she managed to get her point across effectively.

Vaggie assisted in helping her go through her talking points, always giving her undivided attention to her during her mini rehearsals and giving her two-cents in on parts that needed improvement. Alastor had been a huge help as well, joining her over _noodle juice_ and _java_ at cafes to go through the process of the interview and giving her some tips and pointers.

She was in her study again, going through another revision and just looking for bits she should skim or parts to make another round of improvements on. She had probably been at it since breakfast, and she wasn’t really much aware of how much time had passed since then. She was alone in the house, as Vaggie had left right after breakfast to head to town to run some small errands, so there hasn’t been anything breaking out of her concentration.

That was until she heard the phone rang.

Snapping out of her little state, she immediately got out of the room to the incessant ringing.

“Hello?”

There was a familiar loving voice.

“ ** _Charlie!_** ” Lilith sounded on the other end. “ ** _My lovely sweet apple! How have you been?_** ”

Hearing her mother on the phone promptly brought a huge smile to Charlie’s face. While they still regularly exchanged letters delivered between them by Razzle and Dazzle, it had been a while since she conversed with Lilith over the phone, feeling ashamed as she had been a bit too preoccupied with matters once in a while to remember.

“Oh, hello Mommy! I didn’t expect you’d call!”

“ ** _I’m no_ dingle dangler _, but I’ve_** ** _been missing my darling daughter a little more than usual. And I couldn’t wait any longer for you to pick up the_ blower _and dial the rotary_**.”

The guilt over that set in. “I’m terribly sorry,” she apologised. “It’s just that things have been so very busy after the move. I got so distracted, or else I would have called sooner.”

“ ** _It’s alright! I’m sure the project of yours is in need of a lot of your attention right now. And how is everything with the hotel? Is it all good?_** ”

With the topic brought up, Charlie stiffened. Just how often had she been having this sort of conversation about the hotel? Couldn’t she catch a break and not have any spoken interaction suddenly turn into the topic of the hotel?

“Ah… well, I’m sure you’ve heard about it from Daddy,” she replied hesitantly.

There was a short pause, followed by a concerned sigh. “ ** _Oh, yes. I’ve heard about what happened. But you know your father means well, right?_** ”

Charlie bit her lip, unsure of how to answer to that. He ‘means well’? If he did, then why did he think shooting her down the last time was the right way to go about showing that? As much as Lucifer had applauded her for her boldness to stand up to him and departed with a loving embrace, she still felt bitter about his doubts on her ability to bring the hotel to fruition, because in doing so, she could feel her doubts grow even more.

“ ** _Charlie, dear?_** ” Lilith called out, worried about the sudden silence.

“Yes?” Charlie replied, voice heavy. “Sorry… I was distracted for a bit.”

Lilith clicked her tongue in uncertainty, knowing the delicate situation that was at hand here. “ ** _I just hope you aren’t too angry at him about it._** ”

“I’m not angry at him…” Charlie assured despondently, slowly being overwhelmed at the thought of her father. “It’s just… What if he’s right about me? What if I’m probably just taking things on a whim and it’s just going to fail as everything else did?”

Her throat began to feel tight, and she was almost forcing her words out through the slight pain there. “It’s been all _blaah_ … I don’t know what to do if it doesn’t work,” she worried herself. “I don’t…”

“ ** _Charlie,_** ” Lilith said her name sharply, and Charlie immediately _closed her head_. It clearly wasn’t a scolding, but she was sure her mother wasn’t happy at hearing her let belittling herself.

She didn’t realise she was close on the verge of crying until she felt a single little teardrop stream down her cheek, and she wiped her eyes immediately as she took a deep breath to calm herself. “I’m sorry, Mommy… I’m really _behind the eight ball_ here.”

Another deep breath for composure. “I guess I could really use some advice right now.”

There was silence, and Charlie waited for Lilith to find the words to say. In the quiet moment, her eyes wandered to various corners of the room, something to take her mind off the heaviness, and it wasn’t long after that Lilith’s voice came back on the line.

“ ** _My love, your father may be really rough around the edges but he worries for you too._** _**And as much as he probably doesn’t say the right things, he’s proud of you for sticking with what you want. You know how stubborn he can be, but you are clearly your father’s daughter! Bless my dear heart that I have to handle both of you!**_ ”

Hearing the joking exasperation in her mother’s voice made Charlie giggle, and hearing her daughter cheer up even just the slightest brought a soothing lilt to Lilith’s voice. “ ** _I know it’s been really tough and people can just be so horrible. But if you have your heart set to it, a lot of hard work and keeping your head up always pays off._** ”

Lilith had always been one to know what to say to instantly make Charlie feel better, and the one that had Charlie’s back despite not being around all the time. Having this moment was enough for her to feel comforted that at least one parent still supported her, so much so that she finally eased up, breathing easy.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Charlie told her gratefully. “I really needed that.”

The smile on Lilith could almost be heard as she cooed gently, “ ** _I hope your conscience is clear, my lovely sweet apple. And I hope whatever happens won’t stop you from coming to your father’s birthday. You know how much of a sad_ sap _he’ll be if you didn’t_**.”

Charlie was at a loss for a split second until her mind immediately brought that realisation the forefront. “Oh, yes! It’s in a couple of weeks. Of course, I’ll be there.”

In truth, Charlie wasn’t one to like going to her parents’ parties. What with her being considered an outcast within their circle, she always ended up being left alone most of the time since no one was favourable of being around her. But the only exception to this was the fact that it was Lucifer’s birthday, and she’d be damned if she didn’t show up to her father’s own birthday.

“ ** _W_** ** _onderful!_** ” her mother exclaimed, very pleased with the news. “ ** _I also think it might be helpful in your cause. Some of my guests are from the charities and it will be a good time for you to network. Who knows? You might catch someone who’ll be interested._** ”

Hearing that did well in alleviating Charlie’s mood. As much as she wasn’t looking forward to having to socialise with the snobs of her class, but to have a chance for networking to gain potential sponsors? _Hot diggity dog_!

“That sounds like the _cat’s pajamas_!” she exclaimed gleefully. “Hopefully I’ll get some good results.”

Lilith laughed in amusement at Charlie’s burst of enthusiasm. “ ** _Here’s to hoping, Charlie! And I’d expect you to be dressed in your Sunday best for the party!_** ”

* * *

Vaggie didn’t think she could ever trust a man.

They were naturally selfish creatures, fueled by their own desires and willing to forgo all important priorities just to fulfill whatever suited their fancy and never putting much thought into the consequences of their actions. They didn’t give a damn about who they would hurt.

She knew that for herself personally, from the way her father had left her mother so very easily for reasons unknown, probably because he no longer wanted the responsibility of taking care of his wife, his three daughters and his aging mother-in-law. This left Vaggie’s mother to fend for herself and all of them.

Most of Vaggie’s memories as a child was seeing her mother barely get a good night’s sleep from her job as an inn housekeeper, how she always had to count her pennies carefully as she struggled to make ends meet to ensure that there was enough food to feed them all, and how she cried constantly from the stress of having to shoulder the burden alone. 

From then on, Vaggie knew that no man was ever to be trusted, because all they did was hurt everyone around them.

Being the eldest, she had taken up work once she had been of age, doing odd jobs which paid decently and allowed her to help her mother. But luck was good to her when she chanced upon an offer to work for the Magnes as a personal maid for their only daughter. While it had required her to leave her family behind, it paid a pretty penny, enough that she was able to send a generous sum back home in California. It was an added blessing that Lucifer and Liltih Magne were generally kind employers, and Charlie Magne was such a kind soul. 

Over time, the bond between the girls grew that they no longer saw each other as mistress-servant but best friends and companions. Charlie was such a bright-eyed doll who had such a burning passion for helping the less fortunate. But apparently, someone of her character didn’t seem like the norm for her status, and Vaggie watched as all those rich, snobby half-wits laugh at her and belittle her for her ‘stupidity’.

But Charlie was an undaunted one, and somehow, she still found a reason to smile and try again, and her jubilance was almost infectious. She had this energy about her that always seemed to lighten to mood, and even when she was in the deepest of ruts. It was because of this that Vaggie knew immediately then that she wanted to protect Charlie, to make sure that nothing would happen to her, to always make sure that she was safe, and to support her dreams in whatever way she could.

But of course, dangers always seemed to come in the form of men, and now, no man had put Vaggie so much on edge as Alastor Carlon did.

She wanted to believe that it was probably just her deep-rooted distrust of men that made her assume the worst of him. She had wanted to assume that she was just overthinking it too much like Angel had said she was. But she found it odd how taken with Charlie he seemed, stemming from that very moment he had first shown up at their front door, and catching all the suspicious looks that he would give her when she wasn’t looking. She had been a little more on edge with Alastor ever since the night he was brought into the house all roughed-up and bloody. And as much as Vaggie understood that the meetings between him and Charlie as of late had been purely for business for the upcoming radio interview he had arranged for her, his constant presence around Charlie only served to make her all the more wary of him.

And right now, it came like some warning from up above, and at the most inopportune of all times.

Vaggie had dropped by the post office after getting groceries, and she saw that among the letters that were addressed to Charlie, there was a letter for her. She knew it was from her mother, and she opened it quickly to read that her _abuela_ had been sick recently, and had been requesting for her to visit home because it had been a long time since she has seen her, and – knock on wood – it might not be long before she goes.

And it was as she was reading the letter that she had to chance upon Alastor on the way home.

He was heading her way in the opposite direction, clearly going to work, and she had no place to detour to avoid him, leaving her with no choice but to keep walking. She would have been content with just playing dumb and walking past but he had seen her, and raising his hat and greeting her with a ‘Good morning, Miss Vaggie!’. It would have been passed off as a simple greeting between neighbours if she hadn’t noticed the way his lips curled into that creepy toothy grin of his and the way his eyes narrowed as though he was purposely trying to intimidate her, the look sending a chill down her spine as she forced herself to nod back in greeting and hurry past him.

And now the _screaming-meemies_ were back at full force, and she suddenly realised the risk of her leaving even for a few days. She wanted to go see her family, but that would mean that Charlie would be left alone, and who knows what would happen when Alastor was around.

Back in the safety of their shared home, Vaggie read through the letter once more, and she was immediately conflicted by her decision but knew she had to talk this out immediately. She knocked on the door to the study, coming in when permission to enter was given.

Charlie looked up from her papers and immediately noted that something was wrong. “Is anything the matter? You seem distracted.”

That’s when Vaggie showed her the letter she had received from her mother. Charlie had been insistent for her, talking about how it would be good to see her family again after so long and she definitely needed to have a much-needed reunion with her grandmother, but Vaggie said nothing to the matter, and Charlie immediately knew that she didn’t seem too keen at the thought of leaving.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want to go?”

“I’ll be _on the level_ ; I’m not so sure about leaving you here.”

“Why not?” Charlie asked worriedly. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine!”

Not wanting to beat around the bush, Vaggie replied firmly, “It’s not you that I’m worried about. It’s Alastor.”

Charlie stilled at hearing her say that, though she honestly wasn’t surprised.

“Charlie, forgive me if this isn’t something you’d like to hear, but I just do not trust that man,” Vaggie said solemnly.

But Charlie - ever optimistic Charlie - had, of course, tried to reassure her that it wasn’t the case.

“I understand that you don’t. But Vaggie, he’s not all that bad once you get to know him. He’s really nice and friendly and…”

“Are you saying that just because you like him?”

Charlie stilled once more. “What?”

Vaggie shook her head with a sigh. “Come now, Charlie… I’m not stupid. You wouldn’t be spending so much time with him unless you liked him, and I can tell that you really do. But just please listen to me. You can’t believe that creep. He isn’t just a happy face. There’s just something about him, and I don’t know what, but he’s a _wrong number_. And! He basically thinks the idea of the hotel is a joke, so don’t you find it even a bit off that he’s helping you so suddenly for some reason?”

And it was true because Alastor had been the same as everyone else when it came to the idea, thinking it to be absolutely ridiculous. He had been more than brutally honest about it. But then he suddenly seemed to have a change of heart and decided to help her with promoting the hotel with a promised radio interview? It only made Vaggie’s suspicions grew at how contradictory it all seemed, thinking how someone with a thought like him wouldn’t just up and decide otherwise.

The question had thrown Charlie off and she went silent for a bit, stewing over her answer. Vaggie waited patiently, but it bothered her to realise that Charlie almost seemed hesitant at answering.

And, of course, she would somewhat defend him.

“Yes, okay, I may have a little crush on him. But that isn’t the case,” she claimed with affirmation. “Look, I know he’s a pretty intimidating fella and honestly, he can kinda rub people off the wrong way sometimes. But the whole point of the hotel is to give people a chance and to have faith that things will be better. People can change, Vaggie. And if he could change his mind and help me out, who am I to not at least have a smidgen of hope?”

This time it was Vaggie who was uncertain to answer, unsure of how to feel about how serious she was on this. But as much as she would have liked to disagree or find some argument to the contrary, she could only look at Charlie all crestfallen.

Charlie had always been the type to see the good in people and think that everybody should have a chance, even if it was someone like Alastor Carlon. And a part of Vaggie told her that Charlie was Charlie, and she was good and kind and hopeful of everything, and who was she to deny her beliefs? But yet, that was that small inkling of thought that pondered how she could she just be so callow, and she could only wonder if her friend was so far gone with that _pill_ that she was just looking at him through rose-tinted glasses and was now so oblivious to _pipe_ anything that’s _all wet_ about him.

Charlie didn’t seem disheartened at the situation, only giving Vaggie a small comforting smile as she assured gently, “Just trust me, Vaggie… I can take care of myself.”

Her statement was obviously not enough to convince Vaggie, who was still incredulous. But seeing the heartfelt doe eyes of her best friend tugged at her heartstrings.

“Well, I do miss my family, but if it means you will be here alone…”

Just then, Charlie’s eyes widened with a sudden realisation of something. “Funny you should mention that! I had a call from my mother earlier on. My father’s birthday is in a couple of weeks, and l definitely need to be there.”

Hearing that, Vaggie perked up considerably. “Oh! So, you’ll be staying with your parents for the time being?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

It then felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders, and Vaggie finally relaxed knowing that Charlie will be away with her parents as she was. This meant that she wouldn’t be alone at home, which meant that there will be no way Alastor Carlon would have a chance of being alone with her while she wasn’t around.

 _Whoop-de-doo_!

Hiding her joy, Vaggie only remarked with a tinge of disappointment, “I wish I could join you, but I don’t think there would be a point. I never got to be invited to your family’s parties.”

And that was true. Although Charlie saw Vaggie as her best friend and her parents were friendly towards her, she was still technically a servant in their hire, so she had never been allowed to attend all the events they’ve had. Charlie had never liked this separation of social classes, but Vaggie had been respectful of her parents’ wishes, having said that she already knew what she had coming for her when she took up employment with her family, but was more than thankful enough to be treated so kindly by them.

But that little bit of disappointment would not be enough to deter her from the relief she felt. “Hey, at least it’s great that we’re both visiting family,” Vaggie smiled, all cheered up.

Seeing her smile made Charlie did too as she nodded in agreement. “Although, just imagine how dreary it will be,” she bemoaned the thought. “All the bores and the snobs that I’ll have to handle on my own.”

Vaggie only laughed sympathetically as Charlie mock-swooned in despair, but it was nice enough that the mood between them was finally lightening up, and Vaggie was glad that things have settled as she had hoped and could feel at ease. She headed to her best friend and wrapped her in a warm hug, with the affection returned immediately.

“Just take care of yourself, alright?” she advised firmly. “I really don’t want anything happening to you while I’m gone.”

“Of course, Vaggie. Trust me.”

Knowing that Charlie was still busy with work, Vaggie finally felt satisfied enough to leave the room, promising to not disturb her until it was time for lunch. Charlie only smiled in return as she watched her close the door.

But once she was back in the privacy of her study, Charlie sighed in frustration, starting to feel conflicted. Now knowing that Vaggie’s going to be away, the thought of having to go by herself to a function where all the _palookas_ and _Ms Grundys_ were suddenly didn’t seem all that appealing. Sure, Vaggie wouldn’t have been able to attend in the first place, but at least knowing she would be around the manor would have eased her in the slightest.

But she couldn’t just not go to her father’s birthday. It would only serve to make tensions with him worse, and with the prospect of having a chance to converse with potential investors from her mother’s charities, she definitely did not want to miss out on the chance. But she hated attending these functions alone! And now, it seemed that she’s all set and ready to be a _cancelled stamp_ once more since there definitely wouldn’t be someone willing to stick with her for the night…

…

…

Maybe she didn’t have to go alone.

Alastor would definitely make a nice companion.

But… maybe for Vaggie’s sake, she didn’t need to know that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlie, you bad girl! Didn't Vaggie try to warn you about Alastor Carlon? :O 
> 
> Here's a little dose of Charlie and Vaggie before we kickstart the upcoming arc! If you've been following me on Twitter, you'll know I'm very excited about what's coming up in the next chapters ahead! Things are going to get more complex than it already is and we're just going to be digging deeper. And hark! Do I hear more Charlastor moments coming up? Oh boy!
> 
> Now, I'd like to give a HUGE shoutout to Khabee for such a GORGEOUS piece of fanart of a flirtatious Alastor and flustered Charlie from the scene in Chapter 12! They're one of the artists I've been following since I joined the HH fandom and to see it just caused me to shoot wide awake when I first got the notification (I was just waking up when I found out about it, so you can imagine HAHAHAHA!) Please do show your love and support on Twitter @khabee_ ! Go, I'm telling ya!
> 
> I hope you're all looking forward to what's coming up next, because I am! As always, I appreciate all the kudos and comments, and even the interactions on Twitter! I really love to hear from you guys so much, so please do feel free to drop more and even follow me on Twitter @MuseVlt for all updates and ramblings of my chaotic mind!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Noodle juice - Tea  
> Java - Coffee  
> Dingle dangler - Someone who insists on telephoning  
> Blower - Telephone  
> Blaah - Not so good  
> Closed her head - Shut up  
> Behind the eight ball - In a difficult position, in a tight spot  
> Sap - Hopeless person  
> Hot diggity dog! - Great!  
> Cat's Pajamas - A very good thing  
> Screaming-meemies - The shakes  
> On the level - Honest  
> Wrong number - Not a good fellow  
> Pill - Unfavourable person  
> Pipe - Notice  
> All wet - Wrong  
> Whoop-de-doo - Exclamation of joy  
> Palookas - Stupid men  
> Ms Grundys - Boring women  
> Cancelled stamp - Wallflower
> 
> Spanish translation:
> 
> Abuela - Grandmother


	20. Just a Touch of Confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Charlie sat alone at Alastor’s desk, going through her talking points for what could be the umpteenth time and quietly rehearsing to herself, once in a while glancing nervously at the intimidating radio transmitter and the microphone placed right in front of her.

Looking in to the room through a glass window, Alastor watched her quietly, busying himself with one _gasper_ before airtime, giving her the privacy to collect and prepare herself quietly.

“You got another ten minutes, Al,” his boss notified when he appeared by his side, looking in to the room at the blonde sitting in complete concentration. “Run by me again, what she does?”

“A ‘rehabilitation hotel’ for criminals,” Alastor answered, taking another puff and exhaling it smoothly.

“And what does that do?”

“Basically, teach all sorts of _redhots_ the goodness of being useful members of society and stop pulling _capers_ to lead a better life.”

“Right,” the boss said slowly, clearly still not understanding the concept. “And since when were you one to care for such things?”

“Oh, I don’t,” Alastor chuckled casually, flicking his ash into a nearby ashtray and adjusting his new pair of glasses. “But the doll needed some help with promoting, and who am I to not help a little lady in need?”

The boss only looked at him a raised brow, not getting the man and his strange request to have the girl be brought in for an interview for such _malarkey_. But then again, his star radio host has always been a strange one, and that’s not counting the ever-persistent smile he always has plastered on his _mug_. Without another question, he simply sighed and walked off, leaving Alastor to butt out his cigarette on the ashtray and make a move back to the room.

Alastor knocked on the door before letting himself in, seeing Charlie now looking up from her papers to him with a hint of anxiety in her eyes.

“Nervous, darling? Don’t be! Nobody’s gonna _rank_ you. Well, except me, of course.”

“Oh, ha ha,” she mocked with a small roll of her eyes, a hint of a tilt on the corner of her lips. “They may not see me, but they can hear me if I screw it all up.”

“Hmm. Well, if let’s say you did, at least no one knows how you’d look like! At least that’s a plus!”

Charlie laughed, but it was obvious that it was half-hearted, not reaching her eyes which still held the _heebie-jeebies_. Of course, it didn’t convince Alastor, who tilted his head at her.

“Come now. What’s wrong?”

For a moment, Charlie thought to keep it to herself to possibly not jinx what she’d been preparing for. But her eyes trailed down, her lips pressed tightly as she began shaking her head softly.

“I… I can’t mess this up.”

It was all she said, but Alastor need not press on for more to know just how worried she was about the interview. It was probably her one-time chance to really put the hotel out there to the masses, and the tension that came with it was heavy. It was going to be all or nothing and she had to be more than sure not to _ball up_ her chances even further, because if she did, she doubted that there would even be a hope of any recuperation should she fail.

Seeing her in that state did not please him in the slightest.

“Charlie.”

And there he goes, saying her name again. She doesn’t know if he’s ever realised it. It may have been an unconscious choice on his part. But he was sure to not know how that simple utterance of just her name from him was capable of setting off warmth in her that she could never anticipate. It was almost silly, considering it was just her name, but for some reason, he just had this effect on her when he said it.

“Dear, you’ve probably poured over that little script of yours every single second of the day for the past few days, and we’ve run this through enough to get you into the flow. I can very much assure you that you will be fine.”

Alastor may not be one to know how to soothe people – that much she knew – but she could tell that he really did mean by his statement-of-facts that he considered that she would surely do well. It may not have shaken off the nerves, but the encouragement did cheer her up noticeably.

“Thank you, Al,” she said, releasing a sigh before taking a deep breath and straightening up in her seat, her eyes no longer holding any smidgen of fear, making his own perk at this sudden change.

“Now, let’s get you ready, shall we?” he informed, glancing at his watch to realise that it’s a few minutes to the broadcast.

“Yes,” Charlie replied certainly, her lips pulled into a grin. “Let’s do this.”

The next few minutes passed in a blur, with Alastor helping to fix on the bulky _ear muffs_ on her head, and instructing her to ‘just speak your pretty little voice into this here microphone, and I’ll work the rest of the magic’. Charlie felt odd with how it clamped to her ears and muffled out her hearing, but pushed that aside and assuring herself that it will only be a matter of time before she could take it off again.

Taking his seat across her, Alastor put on his own _ear muffs_ and made himself all _spiffy_ for an unseen audience, and he proceeded to look at his watch as a hand reached for a knob on the transmitter. Charlie watched quietly, heartbeat speeding up fast as it was suddenly hit with _heebie-jeebies_ again knowing that her moment was in just a few more ticking seconds.

When his fingers began to slowly turn, Alastor flashed a quick look at her and gave her one more reassuring smile.

“Showtime.”

* * *

“ ** _Greetings and salutations, New Orleans! Alastor Carlon here to get you in the know with all the latest around town! I hope you’re tuning in!_** ”

Upon hearing his voice come on the radio, Vaggie sat up in the armchair in a hurry, leaning her head towards the device.

She was at home, having been told that she wasn’t granted access to the radio station as invitation was only extended to the invited guest, to which she had suspected that this had been done on purpose by the radio host himself. With not much choice, she had to listen to the broadcast here and not be able to accompany Charlie, which irked her greatly.

“ ** _Folks, you’re in for a real treat for this exclusive interview today! We have a very special guest here to talk about her latest passion project that’s sure to set crooks back down the path of righteousness to the graces of society, and it’s all done by having a little stay at the very first ‘rehabilitation hotel’ in the city!_** ”

Vaggie held her breath in both a mixture of excitement and worry, leaning in closer to the radio as though to hear better, gripping the armrest of her seat tighter than necessary.

“ ** _Everyone, let’s give a warm welcome to Miss Charlotte Magne!_** ”

* * *

Charlie had always been curious as to what Alastor must really look like behind the speakers, and now that she knew, she was so amazed at how natural and effortless he was in presenting himself so _bright-eyed and bushy-tailed_. Clearly, he didn’t become the South’s most popular radio host for nothing.

But when his eyes flickered from his own microphone to her, it snapped her out of her little gawking to realise that it was finally her time. When he introduced his name, he gestured to her own microphone, and Charlie was almost rushing as she began talking.

“Hello there, everybody! Very nice to meet you!”

She paused, realising her little mistake in her last words. “I mean… I’m not really meeting you… But… Yes, it’s still nice to meet you!”

Her face starting burning up and there was the sudden urge to bang her head down on the table for messing up already within the first few seconds. But before she could consider that option, Alastor already picked up the conversation smoothly, as though she did not just say something dim-witted.

“Nice to meet you too, Miss Charlotte! My, you’re quite the chipper one, aren’t ya?”

“Only when I’m nervous, Alastor,” she replied absentmindedly, but then slapped a hand over her mouth when she remembered that she was having a radio interview instead of a personal conversation with him. Damn, how else more could she mess this up before she even started?

He once more brushed off her folly and continued effortlessly with a polite laugh. “Don’t need to be so! We’re all friendly here!”

He eyed her with knitted brows, showing concern at her performance, and Charlie gulped down the lump in her throat in embarrassment and anger at herself. Not even a minute in and she was already messing up? Completely unacceptable!

 _Get it together!_ Her thoughts screamed. _Just get it together!_

“Now then, why don't you tell the lovely folks out there about this ‘rehabilitation hotel’ you have in the works, Miss Charlotte?” Alastor prompted, his tone curious to incite a similar reaction in the audience. “I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’ve never had a thing here in New Orleans.”

Taking herself out of her inner ‘pep talk’, Charlie used all her might to keep voice steady as she replied, “Ah, yes. I saw New Orleans as a good place to start. The city’s been having some staggering crime rates, and there were sure to be _boocoos_ of criminals, some - if not most - who even relapse back into crime.”

“But what’s someone like you having an interest with criminals? Most folks would tend to rather stay away from them.”

Ah, yes. That question. She’s answered it so many times that it’s almost second nature to her, and she felt a burst of confidence knowing that she could answer this with ease.

“Well, Alastor, I’ll tell you. That’s exactly why; people stay away from them knowing that they’ve served a _bit_. And that just isn’t fair. It breaks my heart to see them not being treated right just for being _under glass_ , and no one is even given a chance! I can’t stand idly by and watch them be ostracised like that.”

“Is that right?” Alastor asked in his staged voice, though his expression remained neutral. “And how might you go about doing that?”

Again, answering this was a breeze considering she already knew what to say. “So, I’ve been thinking; isn’t there a more humane way to help them? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change them through… rehabilitation? Well, I think ‘yes’! So, that’s what this project aims to achieve.”

Too taken with the moment, Charlie spread her arms out wide with flourish, as though she was speaking to a huge crowd although it was simply just Alastor who watched her with an amused smile.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of its kind!” she announced proudly and jubilantly. “A hotel that rehabilitates criminals!”

One in her position would probably expect an applause, and she may have wanted to flatter herself by pretending that there was one, feeling a glow from it. But alas, it was still just a fantasy and there only came a pause in the air, before the clearing of a throat as Alastor proceeded with the interview casually.

“But why call it a ‘hotel’?” he quizzed in response. “Rather strange name to put it, don’t you think?”

“Oh.” That brought Charlie back down to Earth, snapping out of her little moment and collecting her composure before continuing. “Because I, for one, think that calling it a ‘rehabilitation centre’ or a ‘halfway house’ would only tarnish their prides more,” she stated knowingly. “And I wouldn’t want any more casting out to happen on their ends.”

Alastor considered her answer for a bit, but when he leaned in – as though to take a closer look of her – to speak into his microphone, he sounded so entirely unconvinced.

“But still, a hotel?”

The strong skepticism in his voice threw Charlie off into an uncertain, “Yes?”

Alastor only hummed out loud, and then silence.

And suddenly, a loud chuckle.

“Well, ain’t that a funny way to put it?” he exclaimed incredulously. “I can only imagine how it’ll pull off for some false advertising! _You slay me_! Am I right, folks?”

Such a statement was clearly meant to rile up an audience with a few good laughs, and not in a way that would benefit Charlie, considering how condescending his tone had been. She was taken aback by this sudden twist, and for some reason, it only served to remind her of how much he still probably though the idea to be complete _horse feathers,_ and so did everybody else.

And just like that, nerves hit her again with a full force, her gut squirming and her shrinking under his look. She had been so sure of herself just now, but all it took was a near-mocking skeptic tone and all the confidence just ran and have her tongue go heavy in uncertainty.

“You know?... Because hotels are for… people passing through… Temporarily…”

That sounded so damn weak. Oh God, how was she suddenly so terrified?

“I figured it would serve some purpose of… a place to work towards rehabilitation… Yay…?”

* * *

Charlie’s panic was painfully obvious.

Vaggie bit her nails nervously, half-fighting the urge to rush out the door and head to the station and just be there for her. She could only curse the radio host ten times over for not letting her accompany Charlie to this interview, for not at least providing support for Charlie to lean on, and for being such a smug and infuriating asshole for saying that to Charlie.

She wouldn’t really consider herself religious, but at that moment, she began to recite all sorts of prayers in the hopes of good luck, praying fervently to Santa Maria that nothing else could possibly go wrong.

* * *

Alastor has seen his fair share of bumbling interviewees throughout his tenure as a radio host, and usually it would do well in irritating him to no end at how much of his precious airtime they were wasting. But admittedly, a bumbling Charlie was quite amusing. He might even think it cute at how hard she’s trying.

She should’ve been aware that in this setting, he had to play a part as the interviewer and ask away all the probing questions, and she should have been ready for it even if he asked or said something she wouldn’t like. But clearly, she hadn’t been as she’d thought, and she stumbled quickly.

But in the midst of her bumbling, he noticed that she was starting to tremble, her lips quivering and she looked like she was about to start tearing. Oh, the poor _bunny_. As much as he held no care for such weakness shown, it did not sit right with him to let her suffer like that. It would probably have her not smiling for days again, and he knew very well that he did not wish to intend that.

From what he knew of Charlie, she sought comfort in a meaningful conversation and even some form of affection like a hug. Clearly, he wouldn’t do that, especially now that they were in the middle of a live interview and in his workplace.

But seeing no other option to stop the doll in her state, he did what he could try best.

Wordlessly, Alastor reached his hand out and placed it a mere few inches shy of hers on the table, but his fingers stretched out a slight bit more to graze against the tips of hers.

This made Charlie get out of her little slump to look to him, and he held her gaze while he continued on as though this little moment wasn’t happening. “Well, that certainly does sound like an interesting way to put it, Miss Charlotte,” he said, sounding a tad too cheerful in response to her lacklustre answer. “Now, I hear you’re still on the look-out for potential sponsors. How do you suppose you can convince the people of New Orleans that this would be beneficial for them?”

Charlie did not answer immediately, still at a loss of words since her train of thought had wandered the minute his fingers were on hers. He did not move his hand away, but he did press, “Miss Charlotte?”

That was when returned to attention to be aware that she was asked something. “Sorry, what was the question again?”

Alastor graciously repeated himself. “How do you intend to look for the right sponsors for the hotel of yours, and also show what good it could bring to the city of New Orleans?”

It was a question that required her to do some pondering for the answer, but her mind was admittedly elsewhere as she pondered about his hand. No doubt, it had taken her completely by surprise, since she had been sure that he was bothered by how much the interview was turning out to be a flop. Clearly, this meant otherwise, but it was so unlike him as well, especially in his touch. It felt different than the ones he’s initiated before, which had always been more formal and proper.

This felt personal, closer, and – dare she say it? – intimate.

So much so that she couldn’t stop herself.

Not wanting to risk a negative reaction due to his aversion to touch, Charlie lifted her fingers carefully, feeling the smoothness of skin against her nails. She looked to him to see him watching her with careful eyes, but she felt no resistance in him and did not feel him pull away. So, taking her chances, she moved her fingers so that they were between his, and with a hitch of her breath, she ever so gently began to twine her fingers with his, closing in the gaps until their hands were laced.

Surprisingly, he did not flinch from this and neither did he seem to be disturbed by it, as she would have presumed. The surprise culminated further when their fingers were finally wrapped around each other’s, and she started felt a slight squeeze of his hand when they were locked together. 

In the midst of anxiety, her heart raced even more at this unplanned physical contact between them. She had never held hands with Alastor before, and she couldn’t help but notice how well her hand seemed to fit with his. She felt his warmth on her touch, and he even stroked his thumb almost soothingly on the top of her hand, sending a warmth erupting from her core.

And for some reason, this little lovely gesture not only fluster her, but it had put her at ease. She could feel the lump in her throat go away suddenly, and her heart calmed its racing pace down until she could feel like she wasn’t going to probably lose her breath, which she regained it with a deep inhale.

“Well, Alastor. Clearly, sponsorship only stems out of one’s own interest. They’ll have to want to play a part in making a change. But everybody wants to be recognised for what good they can play in their part for the community, _ya follow_?.”

“Yes, that is true,” he nodded in agreement.

That gave Charlie a push in the right direction to continue. “Any funds put into the hotel will be put into engaging counselling services that would specially cater to each and every patron and assist in their individual ‘rehabilitation’ progresses, and also to fund for activities that would assist in the growth of skillsets that would be useful for them once they venture out to look for work.”

A pause and a deep breath. “It’s safe to say that the sponsors’ gracious donations would ultimately help in lowering the crime rate of the city of New Orleans, and they’d be recognised for playing a part in such a huge development in the city.”

When she finally finished her sentences, she took another breath when she saw him giving her a smile of approval.

“Now isn’t that _hotsy-totsy!_ You hear that, folks? You’ll be doing a great service in the name of New Orleans by being a sponsor! Won’t that be good repertoire?”

Hearing his positive response truly brightened up her spirits more and she smiled back so wide as she gave a gentle squeeze as a silent answer. This made Alastor’s eyes widened at this sudden action, and she thought perhaps she must have acted a bit too rashly. But he did not say anything and his hand remained in her hold as he continued speaking, unfaltered by their little private exchange.

“Now, Miss Charlotte,” he continued on smoothly. “I think the real question here is; what would you hope would impact the patrons after their stay at the ‘Happy Hotel’?”

It was once more a question she was sure about answering, and her growing ease and confidence were at a peak to respond with gusto.

“They are still people and they do deserve to be treated as such, and the hotel is a way for them to build a bridge of reformation to move on from their lives as _hoods_ to hard-working and motivated members of our society. They’ll be able to live normal lives, work and earn their keep, and even be motivated to stay on the path as we help to monitor their progresses even after they’ve ‘checked out’.”

Her thumb began to gently stroke the top of his, feeling the callousness of his skin. which sent the warmth in her to grow ablaze, fuelling her vigour in her speech.

“Every single one of us has something good deep down inside,” she stated with confident affirmation. “I know that, and it’s time people know that too.”

To her statement, Alastor only nodded once. His smile was soft and smile as he watched her with unreadable eyes that were crowned with a knit of his brows. Charlie wasn’t sure if this expression of his meant that he wasn’t comfortable with their hand-holding, but still, she could not feel any resistance from him, allowing herself to embrace his little moment.

But then he gingerly pulled his hand out of her grasp and back to himself, and Charlie felt a twinge of disappointment at the loss of contact, and ger hand nearly followed his before she stopped herself. She kept still as she watched as he brought the hand up to look at the watch on his wrist while he reached out for the knob on the transmitter.

“I’m afraid that’s all the time we have with Miss Charlotte, everybody! Are there any final words you have for our lovely people there?”

It was almost over? Well, isn’t that a surprise! But she felt more relieved that the nerve-wrecking moment was over. She put down the yearn for his touch – still have to be professional, after all – and cleared her throat for her closing. Since it’s about done, might as well she put a little fun into it, she supposed.

“Well, simply put; I have a dream, and I’m here to tell about a wonderful fantastic new hotel. It's one of a kind, right here in New Orleans, catering to a specific clientele.”

Her little nonsensical sentence made Alastor huff a laugh of amusement, and she could only wonder if the audience on the other side of the radio were probably as amused as him.

“Well, you’ve heard it right here, folks! If you know anybody who’d love to catch a stay in the Happy Hotel, or you want to give a helping hand for an honourable cause, be sure to call in for more information! I’m sure potential patrons will look forward to a great stay at the Happy Hotel!”

Alastor nodded once to her that time was up, and Charlie exhaled a silent tense breath that the interview came to an acceptable conclusion, wanting nothing more than to pull off the bothersome thing on her head. She smiled small as she raised a thumbs-up, showing that she was all good.

“Now, how about we take a short break, shall we?” he announced to his audience. “Coming up next, we’re giving you the lay-down on the latest entertainment for you to enjoy!”

After a few seconds, he turned the knob to get them ‘off air’, and Charlie could not resist sighing out loud in relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some of me indulging myself for a little comforting hand-holding~ I am just in need of some softness but not too much that it's going to be sickly sweet - especially for Alastor! That's a mighty odd thing of you to do, Mr Radio Host! I wonder what's gotten into you? But clearly Charlie doesn't seem to mind! In fact, she seems to be LIVING for it~~
> 
> The chapters are just going to get longer and longer and the plot's just going to get thicker and thicker! Things are going out of turn and heading into a direction that's probably not expected at all. I wonder how we'll fare on this new path the story's taken us, dear readers? And I just wonder how it's going to affect our lovely leads right here!
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for your kind and lovely kudos and comments, and those wacky interactions on Twitter. I'll admit that I haven't been in the best of moods lately, and I'm probably going to need a lot of rest to get myself back in the game, but it's thanks to you guys that always keeps me going! I don't know what I would do without you~ Feel free to drop me a kudo and a comment and let me read your entertaining voices, and don't be shy to talk to me on my Twitter @MuseVlt !
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Gasper – Cigarette  
> Redhots - Criminals  
> Capers – Crime  
> Malarkey – Nonsense  
> Mug – Face  
> Rank - Observed, watched, given the once-over  
> Heebie-jeebies – The jitters / Anxiety  
> Ball up – Mess up  
> Ear muffs – Headset  
> Spiffy – Presentable  
> Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed - alert and lively.  
> Boocoos – A lot  
> Bit – Prison sentence  
> You slay me! – That’s funny!  
> Horse feathers – Nonsense  
> Bunny - Term that conveys sympathy and endearment for lost or confused person  
> Ya follow? – Do you understand?  
> Hotsy-totsy - Pleasing


	21. Icy Mitts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

“Well, that went well,” Charlie exclaimed, the heavy tone of sarcasm duly noted in her voice. “I’m pretty sure that I did not just make a complete fool out of myself in all of New Orleans.”

“Don’t think too much, doll. You did much better than I had expected, I’ll say!”

Alastor stood behind her with arms folded behind his back, having accompanied her outside upon the end of their broadcast. Not facing him, Charlie blushed at this reassurance, partly because she knew that he was just saying that to make her feel better about her _copacetic_ performance, but mostly because once again, she was remembering that little moment of hand-holding they shared in that room. Noticeably, Alastor did not make any more gestures nor did he brought it up, and so Charlie could only keep to herself and continuously be flustered about it internally.

“Thank you, Alastor,” she said simply, keeping her voice levelled. “I just hope that there might be some progress after this.”

Alastor jerked a nod with his grin big and wide. “I’m sure there will be, but as much as I’d like to ponder on the interview’s success, I’m afraid I can’t stay out for too long.” He raised his hand – the hand that had held hers, she realised with a blush – to look at the watch on his wrist. “Tom’s taking over part of the next segment, and I simply cannot let New Orleans be bored to death by that poor sap’s sorry excuse of a voice!”

“Now, Alastor, that’s rude!” Charlie scolded with a chuckle.

“But it’s the truth,” he answered uncaringly. “Anyway, I suppose you should hurry along home. I’m sure Miss Vaggie’s waiting anxiously to hear how it went.”

“Wait! I have something to ask you.”

Alastor was about to turn when the doll piped up, and he tilted his head curiously at her suddenness. “What is it, dear?” he inquired.

One thing he learned about Charlie was that she was a pretty easy picture to read at times, and he could tell from the way her eyes looked away in deep thought and how her lips kept pressing themselves tightly consistently that there was a hesitant uncertainty as she mulled over her question.

“Ah, well… You see. My father’s birthday will be happening on June 6th,” a shuffling of her feet and a fiddling of her fingers, “and Vaggie wouldn’t be around to accompany me back to Baton Rouge to attend.”

Alastor continued to watch her quietly and waited for her to continue, and Charlie was sure she could have broken under the weight of his look, making her look down to the ground when she finally said it.

“So… Well… I was hoping that… you would be agreeable to be my companion for the night?”

Finally getting that out of her, she let out a silent breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding and nervously regained her composure enough to look back up at him.

Admittedly, she had been expecting that he would say ‘yes’, probably because he had always been agreeable to anything she had suggested thus far, and usually, they would start to plan to talk about it for another day.

But right now, it appeared that it wasn’t so, noticing a flash of hesitation cross his face, and did his smile somewhat falter even for the tiniest bit?

That confused Charlie, as much as it made her worry just the slight bit that her invitation may have been a bit too rushed, now that she thought about it. As far as she knew, they were still ‘dating’, but it’s not as if they have confirmed a relationship with each other. And here she was, basically inviting him to meet her parents, and who would do such a thing when they weren’t even anything to begin with?

Before she could explain herself or even take back the invitation, Alastor finally replied with a simple, “I’ll think about it.”

And that was that. Nothing more was said on the topic, and Alastor finally bade goodbye with a wave of his hand before he turned to head back inside the station. No usual taking of her hand to give it a peck there, which only somehow made the situation worse. It had seemed almost as though he was trying to rush out of the awkwardness that now clung in the air.

Charlie stayed standing on the pavement, her eyes still rooted to where he had disappeared inside, speechless and unsure of how to feel.

It was only a few seconds later that she suddenly started to smack herself on her cheeks repeatedly, rushing off back home as she berated herself for being so stupid and making things awkward.

* * *

This.

What was this?

What was he doing?

Nursing a tumbler of gin in one of his hands, Alastor silently sat at the bar and stared at his other hand in a look of pure confusion and disdain.

This hand. The hand that, for some who-knows-what reason, had reached for Charlie’s in a show of comfort, and had allowed her to take a step further by holding it in her own. He remembered the sensations clearly. How her dainty fingers had itched to feel his own, how she had approached his digits with scared anticipation, and the way she gently and carefully twined hers with his, gripping him like it was her own pillar of strength.

This was the very hand that only just a few nights ago had held the door leading to her bedroom, hell-bent on turning the doorknob and giving him entrance. It had been waiting in a raging excitement to get itself on her slender pale throat and take her gorgeous life in his grasp. It wanted to paint her smooth porcelain flesh into a canvas of red and black and blue and to bathe itself in her warm blood and feel its silky smoothness on his skin.

And it was this very hand that had let go of the doorknob before it could even make a twist.

Even after the few days that had passed since then, the thought kept buzzing around in his head like an irritable pest, making him question over and over again why he hadn’t just done and did it. Was it the sentiment that she had taken care of his messy state? Was it because she provided him with a pillow and a blanket that insufferably held the scent of her perfume? Was it something to do with the sudden thought of her lovely smile that had flashed in his mind?

And why did he actually had the impudence to actually have his thumb stroke her smooth pale skin when she dared to intertwine her fingers with his, giving her the comfort that she so needed then?

What the hell was this?

This was unlike him, and it was completely unacceptable.

This would not do well at all.

“Hey.”

It was like that familiar gruff voice was his saving grace out of these disgusting thoughts. Alastor snapped out of it immediately to find Husker looking at him with a frown.

“You got _off your rocker_ for a moment there?”

Alastor chuckled, shaking his head as he brought his glass to his lips, taking a sip of the now-watered down gin. “Aren’t I always, Husker, ol’ sport?”

“A lil' more than usual, I’ll say.”

This was the first time the bartender had seen the radio host since his sudden call that night, and he did have to admit that Alastor did seem more different. Hell, even his smile was different. Looking so strained and on edge, it was obvious that something was bothering him. But Husk knew all too well that the man wouldn’t even divulge any information to him, clearly for the sake of his tremendous ego, so there wasn’t a bother to press him on the matter.

Alastor hadn’t noticed the contemplating look the bartender was giving him, and neither did he notice that the speakeasy had been quiet until there was a sudden blare of music taking on a smooth _whangdoodle_. Now, that wouldn’t have been of any concern to him, usually tuning it to background noise, but there was something new to the music tonight that caught his attention immediately. 

It was a singing voice. One that he was all too familiar with.

Breaking out of his stupor, he turned his head immediately to the stage, and the first thing that caught his eye on stage was a woman, short and plump with her dress hugging prominent curves, a jewelled hairband with a feather adorning her head of sleek straight blonde hair with its short locks framing her chubby face.

The _canary_ sang with a voice as smooth as butter and hit her notes as high as the ceiling, but while there was such a focus to her song, her eyes seemed to be wandering, searching for something in the crowd.

And it found it, on him.

Holding her gaze from the distance, he saw her lips pulling into a smile, like a cat that got the cream. 

“You didn’t tell me she’s back,” Alastor remarked to Husk.

The bartender only shrugged, not paying much mind to the exchange that what was going on. “Didn’t think much of it,” Husk replied nonchalantly. “Don’t suppose you’d be interested to see her again.”

Alastor said nothing more, only watching her blankly as she performed to the crowd that was swooning for the singer, and it was obvious that their attentions were not all that interesting to her, ignoring them in favour of watching him. Her gaze was intent with a poignant depth, a mixture of all sorts of heartfelt she was experiencing just from looking at him alone. 

Ah, well this indeed turned out to be quite the turn of events for Alastor, one he wasn’t sure what to make of.

When the music came to a perfect close, the audience cheered, and the _canary_ gave a delicate bow before exiting the stage just as the musicians flowed into another song. But instead of disappearing off to wherever the acts went, she sauntered through the tables on the main floor, walking with a purpose in the stride of her short _gams_. Alastor kept watching her, knowing very well where she would be led to.

Finally, the dame arrived at the bar, standing before him with a hand on her hips, her lips curled into a sweet smile as she looked up at him with sultry eyes. 

“Hello, Alastor.”

Alastor’s own smile titled just the tiniest bit as he raised his glass to her.

“Mimzy.”

* * *

Imagine going to the bayous to dump some cut-up unwanted parts of a victim, only to accidentally chance upon the scene of a chubby little flapper hacking a cheating ex-boyfriend and his mistress into a bloody pulp?

It had been a shoddy job that left Alastor scoffing at the amateurism of it, compelling him to teach her how to properly dispose of the bodies, even helping her to expertly cut up their parts to make for easy chewing for the gators. He would say that as much as he wouldn’t want to get involved in the business of others, it was still a funny thought in his lifetime to chance upon someone like him, which what prompted him to.

It was only after getting to know Rosie and the speakeasy that he discovered that Mimzy was her star singer. It could probably be a _Chinese angle_ of chance, but New Orleans was a tiny city after all, so it wouldn’t have been a surprise that they of the underground would eventually come to know one another. Needless to say, they did strike up a friendship since then, sharing a love for drinks and songs and cigarettes.

And, of course, some little instances of murder.

Mimzy with the green eyes ironically got easily green-eyed with any woman who she felt was or potentially could upstage her, and she saw it as her get-away-quick schemes of taking out potential competition. Alastor saw this ‘modus operandi’ of hers to be quite laughable purely because it seemed so petty of her, but then again, he killed for the thrill and to make a good meal out of it, so who was he to judge?

But she was adamant in leaving that part of her for the sake of her dreams of becoming a recognised singer. And true enough, the last he had seen of the aspiring star had been when her big break came when she caught the attention of a patron who just so happened to be a talent scout. He took her away on tours across states far from the grasps of Louisiana, gracing glamorous clubs with her melodious vocals and making the heads of many men turn at her _chassis._ Mimzy was well on her way to stardom, and it might probably be a matter of time until she winds up in _Tin Pan Alley_.

But after so long, she seemed to have found her way back to New Orleans, and what better way to celebrate a homecoming than at her favourite speakeasy surrounded by old friends?

Alastor and Mimzy caught up together at one of the best tables of the _joint_ , filling their systems with good _giggle-water_ and nicotine. She did most of the talking and recounted her travels while Alastor indulged her by listening attentively. It seemed she had quite the adventure while she had been away, all precious dimpled smiles as she spoke of little bits of gossip and had a good laugh here and there, and it almost seemed like the night seemed to pass by so quickly as the band played a tune that added a nice touch to the warm ambiance.

Oh, but what wonders liquor can do to immediately change that, and it was after a few drinks in that things started to take on a more… sentimental tone.

“I’ve missed New Orleans. Once you’ve been around, you realise that there isn’t any place like it.”

“ _And how_ ,” Alastor cheered with a nod of agreement and a raise of his glass. “But New Orleans isn’t moving. Unlike you, my dear. So why not just simply stay?”

“There’s nothing here for me to stay, Al,” she answered pointedly, taking a polite sip of her martini. “New Orleans is a tiny town and I want to make it big out there. There’s really nothing tying me down here.”

Alastor clicked his tongue skeptically at that. “Oh, come now. Surely that must be something! Pray tell, what could New Orleans have to could hold your heart’s desire?”

There was a shift in the air between them when Mimzy’s small smile tilted downwards, painting her whole expression into one of sadness as she gazed into her martini glass. And immediately, Alastor stiffened slightly at this sudden change, internally regretting asking that question, all because he knew all too well in what direction the conversation had turned to.

Mimzy took a quiet sip of her drink and pursed her lips, before she sighed and looked at him sadly, telling him, “You know it would have been something if you had accepted my proposal.”

Throughout knowing her, Alastor always regarded Mimzy as a good friend, treating her with kindness and chivalry that a man would to a lady friend. But it was very clear to anyone who knew them that while he may be taken with her singing and her own capability to put a man down, it was obvious that Alastor did not feel anything for Mimzy, especially not any strong form of affection that could be akin to ‘love’. Nothing had gone on between them; no instances of romance or even one dalliance.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be for Mimzy. She saw him as her saviour, a light at the end of her dark tunnel, somebody who understood her better than anyone else could. Being the hopeless romantic that she was, she ended up falling for him, and very hard in fact. So hard that she had continuously clung on to the hope that he would miraculously realise that they were ‘meant to be together’.

But that hope was shattered when it all went downhill the day she had accepted the offer from the talent scout. Her hesitation to leave without Alastor had led to an almost heated conversation between the two, which ultimately culminated in Mimzy actually proposing to him, going on a whole ramble about eloping and running away where people won’t know who he was, and they could be free to be themselves with no risk of anyone on their heels.

But Alastor, as blunt as he was, shot her down with no remorse, making it clear that while she was a dear friend, he simply did not love her, and doubted that he could feel anything for her at all, so there was no way in hell did he want to get _insured_ with her. And being brutally honest as he was known to be, he went _on the up and up_ by saying how he wasn't going to leave behind his job, his livelihood, or his ‘hobbies’ for her, just because she wasn’t even worth it.

That had her leaving town with a heavy heart, and he never heard of anything from her ever since, other than the occasional letters that her dearest best friend Niffty would have read out to him. But aside from that, he knew nothing of what the doll had been up to during her time away.

But clearly, she still continued to _carry a torch_ for him. 

“Now, now, darling. I’ve made it very clear how I felt,” Alastor replied stiffly.

Another quiet sigh, this time heavier. “Yes, I know. You don’t have to remind me,” Mimzy said, in a voice coming close to tears. “It’s just… Oh Alastor, you know damn well what I feel for you… What would it take to win that heart of yours?...”

“You’re drunk, dear.”

“I’m sober enough to remember your answer...”

No immediate reply came from Alastor, who remained quiet at how resolute Mimzy was in finding out the answer. But while others could feel pity for her at her lovelorn state, he did not.

In fact, he only found it very laughable.

He had never been one to be concerned about the matters of the heart. He’s seen first-hand how ‘love’ turned people into fools and it disgusted him, so by no means was he eager to put himself in such a state. Honestly, he didn’t even think there was even any single bout of romance in him to feel such a way for anyone else. Maybe it was something he unconsciously ingrained into his mind, or probably there was just something in his being that wasn’t built for that. Whatever it was, he did not mind it and neither did he care for it.

And besides, Mimzy wasn’t one he could find himself fancying too much. The _skirt_ simply made herself _duck soup_ for him, willing to take any forms of chances that came her way to impress him, like singing a song that he liked or even taking a life in a way that could quip his interest. While the effort was ‘cute’ and appreciated, Alastor found that rather dull and boring at seeing how incessant she would be to throw herself at his feet. Have some dignity for oneself, for goodness’ sake. 

Even when she had left, he particularly didn’t really care so much. It didn’t even make him feel even a pinch of sorrow. Now though, he had been willing to forget their little ‘situation’ to be a warm friendly face welcoming her back into town, thinking that they could move on from the past and look bright ahead. But clearly that wasn’t the case, and resolute to his decision, he still felt nothing from her despite how she clearly had held him close to her heart.

Alastor could only imagine how it would be if he should ever come across the interest to potentially make her one of his next victims; there probably wouldn’t be a need to lure her in since she was so foolishly enamoured with him that she would have followed willingly and make the game a quick win. 

And that was that. There was just simply no excitement that came with her. There was no bite. There was no thrill of the chase. It wasn’t what he would be looking for. It wasn’t like…

…

It wasn’t like Charlie.

Alastor suddenly became lost in thought, confused at why his mind had drifted to her.

Charlie Magne had been quite the chase for him thus far, and he’d been quite patient to draw it out as long as he could as he kept up with the charade of being someone who’s interested in her to get her to harbour a crush on him. It was supposed to be a normal moth-to-the-flame tactic, but there was just something else about this chase that somehow has him drawn too, and he realised that she seemed to be stringing him along as he did her.

He wasn’t really sure what it was. It was probably her happy-go-lucky demeanour or her infectious smile that she always manages to muster, or the fact that the dame wasn’t a _weak sister_ like she looked and had the gall the retaliate him should she feel her point wasn’t coming across. A lot of his victims – and Mimzy included – had been the type to be so feather-brained to be swayed easily by his charms, but not Charlie. While the crush was obvious in her shy looks and sudden blushes, she wasn’t some fool in love to want to please him in matters that she felt didn’t please herself.

No, no. Miss Charlie Magne knew what she wanted for herself and wasn’t afraid to bite back. He had seen it since their first conversation on her front porch, and the day she stood up to him on the pavement when they were walking to town together.

But along with that boldness was the sweetness that clearly made up her psyche. That night in her living room, she had been so adamant of taking care of him when he was as stubborn as a mule to not want to go to the hospital. How she had been so careful with him, had respected his space when she asked for permission to touch him and worried herself about not letting him be alone for the night.

That union of boldness and sweetness that she had in her suddenly made him think back to the incident this afternoon, gazing silently at his hand as the strange new sinking feeling hit his gut. She had been daring to have their hands together when all he gave was a simple brush of his fingers, but she hadn’t done it in a way that was on her own rash accord. She had been slow and gentle, watching him carefully to be aware of his reactions. He did admit that he had been uncomfortable with her touching, but seeing how she was cautious in doing so, it somehow was a bit endearing to the man, and he felt it only fair that he indulged her.

But considering the sinking feeling in his gut, he knew it was a risk of him getting soft on her, and he simply cannot have that. He’ll have to be more aware on not giving Charlie too many chances. She was turning out to be more dangerous than he could ever give her credit for.

Yet, chances aside, Charlie Magne was like an enigma he can’t quite seem to comprehend just yet, and there was definitely something alluring in his latest escapade. Thus, it brought him to the same inane question that had been lingering around the recesses of his mind; what was it about Charlie exactly that had him so captivated?

Well, whatever it was, he sure didn’t mind sticking around with it for a while more. She’d probably be a more worthy prize for his end once he’s gotten what he wanted.

Not a word had been spoken between the two since Mimzy last spoke, and she took the silence as hesitation on Alastor’s part to answer. Knowing him well enough that he wouldn’t say anything he didn’t feel the need to, Mimzy thought to just cut her losses there and then and let the matter go unrest – it was the easier option, rather than to have herself hurt by whatever he would think to reply.

Finishing up her martini, she took a deep breath to keep her voice composed. “I think I’ve had enough for tonight,” she announced, sounding like she hadn’t just nearly become a _crumb_. “Would you be a gentleman and walk me home? I think I got my _noodle_ too _corked_.”

“Perhaps, you can get Husker for that, dear.”

Mimzy was almost out of her seat and ready to leave with him when she heard him say that, and that made her froze and look up at him with a confused, “Huh?”

Alastor too got out of his seat, not looking at her as he said, “My apologies, Mimzy. But I do believe that it would not be appropriate on my part.”

Mimzy was almost uncertain if she had heard that right because of how many drinks she’s had for the night, but seeing Alastor putting back on his suit jacket and fedora without even giving her a look sent an aching feeling to her gut. “And why not, Al?” she questioned almost desperately, wondering if the turn of their conversation had something to do with it.

Straightening out his attire, Alastor’s lips were pressed into a thin smile as he sighed in what could be akin to frustration. His mind was laden with heavy thoughts and liquor, and it was not a good mix. He almost didn’t want to say anything, considering how the answer almost left his tongue feeling heavy.

But ain’t it the truth?

“I’m seeing someone now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *claps hands together and rubs them furiously*
> 
> Now we're getting somewhere! You all best bet I had wanted a love-triangle in here ;)
> 
> Mimzy enters the stage as the story's about to get more heated! Way to make an entrance at the most opportune time! But sorry, darling! Al's a little too preoccupied with more pressing matters and we can only hold on to our horses to find out what's going to happen! Oh, Charlie dear, no need to get your pretty little head in a tizzy! 
> 
> I've been so excited to get this chapter out but I had to put it off due to school commitments, and seriously it's been killing me! But I'm glad to be supported by great friends and classmates so it hasn't really been having me lose my shit as of yet, and not to forget you guys who are always a delight for me to hear from! That, and I had been occupied with writing a Charlastor wedding one-shot 'A Loving Union' ! Please give it a read if you haven't!
> 
> Once again, thank you and much much love for all the precious kudos and comments that are always a pleasure to read! Please do feel free to drop me some for this chapter and I can't wait to read what you think of this chapter! Also, feel free to chat up with me on Twitter @MuseVlt !
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Copacetic – Ok, Alright  
> Off your rocker – Mad, crazy  
> Whangdoodle – Jazz number  
> Canary – Female singer  
> Gams – Legs  
> Chinese angle – Strange twist  
> Chassis – The female figure  
> Tin Pan Alley - The music industry in New York, located between 48th and 52nd street  
> Joint – Establishment  
> Giggle water – Liquor  
> And how – I agree  
> Insured – To be engaged to marry  
> On the up and up – To be honest  
> Carry a torch – Have an unrequited love  
> Skirt – Girl  
> Duck soup – Easy  
> Weak sister – Pushover  
> Crumb – Hopeless  
> Noodle – Head  
> Corked – Intoxicated


	22. At The Front

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

When Vaggie finally left for California for the next couple of weeks, Charlie had just about accepted the fact that she was going to have to go back to Baton Rouge to stay with her parents, and the mere thought of the upcoming party and the socialising ate at her with dread.

But lo and behold, Alastor _buzzed_ on the day that she had left, telling her that he had a think about it and yes, he would love to be her companion to the party.

It was honestly a surprise for her, considering how awkward the interaction was that day when she had asked, and she still worried herself that she might have scared him off that day. But hearing his answer with that smile that she liked made her more than relieved at the thought that the air was cleared, and the fact that she wouldn’t need to go home back to Baton Rouge and having to deal with all those bores by herself. 

Not that getting to go with Alastor as a date wasn’t really what got her excited the most.

She wanted to thank him in some way for accepting her invitation, and cooking a nice dish seemed appropriate, considering the foodie that he was. Beignets had been her first option – sweet foods for a sweet gesture – but she was quick to remember that her neighbour did not really hold a fondness for sweets. Luckily, one of the cookbooks she had purchased had a recipe for savoury potato beignets, something she felt might suit his fancy. And she’d been meaning to try her hand in the kitchen for a while now, so why not?

To her delight, the beignets turned out perfect, and she couldn’t resist popping one into her mouth and just sighing at the deliciousness of the potato. Arranging them nicely on a platter and covering it for warmth with a cheesecloth, she made her way to Alastor’s doorstep, knocking on the door once, twice, three times, before waiting, bouncing on her feet as she looked at the platter in her hands all excited.

The look went up when the door opened, but then it fell flat when she realised that she was looking at nothing instead of Alastor.

“Hi, there!”

The voice made her jump from its shrillness. It was a girlish voice, and it sounded from right below where she was looking. Looking down, she saw an unfamiliar face standing there with a big grin.

“Oh, hello!” Charlie greeted, smiling back. “I don’t think I know who you are?”

She’s never seen this girl in the neighbourhood before. She was young and very short, almost looking like a kid although Charlie was sure that she was probably a teenager. Bright red hair poked out from under her cloche hat, and she smiled with her eyes so wide it almost seemed crazed. But curious as she may be about this new girl, she was more concerned about the fact that she was in Alastor’s house.

“I’m Niffty!” the girl introduced herself enthusiastically. “Nice to meet you!”

Despite her concern, Charlie still kept her smile on. “Likewise! I’m Charlie!” she introduced back, giving a wave. “Sorry to bother, but is-”

“Oh, were you looking for Mister Al? He’s out to run some errands, but he should be back soon!”

Well, isn’t that a shame.

“Are you a friend of his?” Charlie asked politely, still wondering who the heck she was and what was she doing in Alastor’s house.

The girl – Niffty, she said her name was – tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm! Well, I consider him a friend, but he’s more my boss than anything else, to be honest!”

“Your boss?”

She nodded. “Uh-huh! I clean up all his messes once in a while! And let me tell ya, he sure can leave the place looking like a sty! Anyway! I’ve never seen you before! You new here?”

“Oh, yes! I live in the house next door.”

The little doll’s eyes widened in excitement, and her grin stretched. “Oh, you’re Mister Al’s new neighbour?”

“Well, not really. I’ve been here for a couple of months now.”

But Niffty prattled on with a bounce. “Ain’t that the _cat’s pyjamas_! The previous one was just a boring old hag! Probably good riddance to her! At least you’re pretty! Ohhhhh, Mister Al’s sure to like you!”

Charlie couldn’t stop the blush that she could feel suddenly heat her cheeks up when she heard the last bit. But before she could get too far into a blush, there suddenly appeared a man inside the house walking behind Niffty. One with salt-and-pepper hair and a gruff demeanour, judging from the way he looked at her when he paused in his step.

Niffty turned to see him and immediately exclaimed, “Oh, Husk! This is Charlie! Mister Al’s next-door neighbour!”

Charlie raised a hand and waved, greeting a smiling ‘hello’, but he – Husk – only hummed and gave a tilt of his head in greeting, staying where he was and watching her. The hard look in his eyes made him seem really guarded, though wearier if anything else. And judging from the strong smell of liquor that wafted around him, Charlie could tell the man sure was a _boozehound_.

“’Soooo what’chu got there?”

Charlie looked away from Husk to find Niffty eyeing the platter in her hands. “Oh, just some potato beignets I’ve made for him,” she explained. “It’s a ‘thank you’ gift for Alastor.”

“Now, ain’t that sweet!” Niffty squealed in girlish delight. “I don’t there’s ever been anyone that dared to do something like this for him! Wowie, you must really like him, huh? I can tell from the way your face be lookin’ like a ripe cherry! Do you think Mister Al will like it? I think so!”

Niffty said all of that so fast that Charlie was barely able to catch up, and she was almost at a loss at what to reply to this stranger, and no doubt she was blushing once more at the brashness of it. Well, this girl was quite direct now, wasn’t she?

“My, my! I don’t remember calling for a party on my doorstep!”

All three of them turned in the direction of the voice to see Alastor standing at the foot of his porch steps, grinning as he eyed the scene with curious wide eyes. He clearly was back from running errands, having a garment bag draped over a forearm, while his other was carrying a bag of groceries.

“Good afternoon, Alastor!” Charlie greeted, her grin returning as she turned to him, no longer involved in Niffty’s chatter. “It’s good that I’ve caught you!”

“Good afternoon, Charlie! I see you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Husk and Niffty, my two dearest friends!”

Alastor stepped up the porch until he was right beside Charlie, moving his grocery bag to his other arm to have one wrapped around her frame, holding her close to him that she was pretty sure how warm she was starting to feel at this gesture, stilling immediately at this unexpected contact. But he didn't seem to be aware of that as he gestured her to his guests.

"And absolutely wonderful that you both got to meet my lovely neighbour, Miss Charlie Magne!”

Niffty's ear-splitting grin stayed, but Husk’s expression suddenly turned from bored and uncaring to one of shock and bewilderment as his brows raised and his eyes widened noticeably as he looked between Alastor and Charlie, making her a little confused at this weird response.

“So, what brings you here to the other side?” Alastor asked, letting go to face her properly. “This is a first you’ve ever come to my doorstep. Usually, it’s the other way ‘round!”

She was suddenly reminded of the purpose of her visit, and she excitedly held up the dish to him. “I’ve made you some potato beignets!” she told him cheerily, smiling wider at his surprise.

“Oh!” Alastor exclaimed, eyeing the platter that was up to his face. “Why, darling, you shouldn’t have! My, the trouble you must’ve gone through to make these for silly old me!”

“Oh, think nothing of it. It’s just a thank you for accepting my invitation. Though, I would hope you won’t have any second thoughts about it…”

He chuckled as he shook his head adamantly. “Of course not! Lookie here, I’ve even gotten one of my best suits mended back to top-notch quality!” He gestured to the garment bag draped on his forearm. “Wouldn’t wanna be looking nothing but the best for such an occasion!”

Hearing that brightened Charlie up noticeably and all sorts of doubts she had about him reconsidering disappear. 

“Niffty, do be a dear and have this put away?” he asked the young girl kindly, leaning down to hand his garment bag and grocery bag to her, which she nodded obediently and rushed off back inside. Husk followed right after her, giving one more look to the two before he did, making Charlie feel a little odder about it.

But she didn’t pay much attention to it when the platter was suddenly taken from her hands, and Alastor was grinning kindly. “This will sure go well with dinner tonight! I hope you’ve made a batch for yourself too?”

“Ah, well, not really. I have an appointment at the boutique down by the river to have a dress made at five. So, I’ll probably be having dinner out instead.”

Alastor raised his hand to look at the watch on the wrist, giving a low whistle. “Well, I’d say you better _breeze off_ now, darling. You might be running a little late!”

He showed his watch to her and she just about gasped out loud, in disbelief that time had flown by so quickly while she had been busy. She almost ran off his porch, but not before giving an exasperated beaming smile and waving away as she headed back to her house. Alastor stayed where he was with the platter of potato beignets, watching with a chuckle until she was inside the house, before heading straight for the kitchen where Husk and Niffty were.

The girl was busy sorting through his bag of groceries and putting them away in the right places, having done so many times before and always keeping it neat and organised like how he and she liked. Husk, in the meanwhile, was smoking at the small table in the centre of the room, in somewhat tensed silence.

“I take it that it’s all cleaned up?” Alastor inquired.

Niffty nodded enthusiastically. “Yup! No bloodstains whatsoever! But the stairs are starting to creak though! You oughta get that fixed before it breaks under your feet!”

“Duly noted, dear.” Alastor placed the platter on the countertop before taking a seat next to Husk. “ _Butt me_ ,” he asked, and the bartender pulled a stick out of his _deck_ and handed it to him. Alastor relaxed in his seat as he lit his cigarette, taking a peaceful drag and pretending as though he hadn’t noticed Husk watching him with a suspicious glare, his mind filled with concern at the realisation that had just hit him with the recent encounter with Alastor’s neighbour.

“So, that’s her?”

“Hmm?”

“The girl you _chilled off_ that fat fuck for.”

Alastor paused in blowing out smoke as his eyes darted to the side at Husk, and he slowly exhaled the rest in a chuckle. “Hmm, what gave it away?”

The fact that he didn’t deny it confirmed Husk’s suspicions. He wouldn’t have done it if it were otherwise.

“Her last name’s Magne. I remember that’s the name he said last night,” Husk recalled the events of that night at the speakeasy.

“Mm-hm.” Again, Alastor wasn’t denying it.

“’Charlie Magne’?” Niffty, in the middle of sorting through his icebox, suddenly spoke up in realisation. “Ain’t she the _barlow_ you had on your radio show a couple of days back? Something about being a ‘reformer’ for criminals in some fancy-schmancy hotel?”

“That is correct, yes.”

Hearing that made Husk glared daggers at Alastor even more, seething, “What in the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

But he, as usual, brushed it off in the most infuriating – at least to Husk – light-hearted manner. “My, my, Husker! So, you do have a caring side!” Alastor exclaimed with a pat to his shoulder. “Seems like not _having a snoot full_ every few seconds can really do wonders for you!”

Husk ignored the _line_ and brushed his hand off. “Jesus Christ, how long you’ve been having this girl sticking around you? And you haven’t even done anything to her? What, you’re even ‘dating’ her now?”

Now that made Alastor laugh, as though the very mention of it made him so bashful. “Well, I don’t see how that’s any of your _beeswax_ , but for the past couple of months or so, yes!”

Niffty gasped aloud at hearing that. “So, what Mimzy said was true? I can’t believe it!" With a wagging finger and a frown that didn't really make her look even the slightest bit threatening, she admonished, "Mister Al, you broke her heart!”

The mention of her name made Alastor roll his eyes at the sudden repetition of the thought. “Mimzy’s broken it herself when she can’t decide to just bury the hatchet and move on, Niffty dear. Besides, I’ve been finding myself quite taken with my little neighbour so far. She’s clearly a good game, that’s for sure!

None of the two piped up in agreement. Instead, it was only met with a firm, “You do know the shit you’re getting yourself into, right?”

Husk was now so chockful of irritation that it finally made Alastor look at him with narrowed eyes. “I’m sorry? I don’t think I quite _know your onions_ , Husker.”

Husk was really not holding back on how much he thought this to be _not so good_. “You’re going to a party with her. And not just any party. A family party. Everybody’s gonna see you two together, thinking you’re some prick wanting to get with her. But once you’ve got her and did whatever you wanted with her, who’s the first person the _peepers_ gonna look for once she vanishes from the trace of the Earth?”

Butting out his cigarette on an ashtray, he raised a finger – still dirtied with the blood and grime from cleaning up the ‘mess’ earlier on – and pointed it right at Alastor’s face. 

“That’s right, your creepy _mug_."

Alastor remained quiet as he watched him, so Husk continued on. "And when shit goes down, it ain't going to be just you. It's going to be all of us. Ever thought of that?”

Sometimes, when Husk was just the right type of sober, he was someone who could actually make a lot of sense on the risks and probabilities of a situation, although mostly for the benefit of saving his own ass instead of actually looking out for another.

And yes, of course he had thought about it. Alastor wasn’t the type to do things without first weighing the scales on what his options were. Remembering that Charlie came from a family of money and was part of high society, her disappearance was sure to have her face be the next one plastered on the newspapers and her name broadcasted on the radio waves. And of course, with the appearance of himself with her, a new strange face that she’s associated with, no doubt would he be one of the first to be questioned by the law on her.

However, Alastor prided himself on a lot of things, and being smart and thinking way ahead of himself was one of them. He knew that this would need some planning for the end-game, and he had a few tricks up his sleeve that could ensure that.

And maybe, just maybe, the Big Apple could come in handy in covering his tracks. All he needed was to strike an attractive counter-deal with the _honcho_ that would benefit himself, but that’ll count for another lot of meticulous planning.

All in due time.

“No need to worry about me, my friends. I’ll have it all under control."

Butting out his cigarette, he looked to the two with a wide grin that didn't really seem to match with his slitted eyes.

"Just do me a favour and don’t stand in my way while I enjoy this little game, hmm?”

And there it was, the appearance of the sinister grin and the voice coated with dark intent. It would be a lost cause trying to convince him otherwise – his mind had definitely grown a _berry patch_ for the girl, and an absolute rotten one at that. Niffty only looked on in uncertainty, whereas Husk grumbled a low string of cusses and bemoaning the thought of being dragged into another load of hot bullshit. But both said nothing at Alastor’s firm decisions.

When they’ve felt that they probably had outstayed their welcome, both quietly _beat it_ , leaving Alastor by himself in the kitchen. The conversation had taken a backseat on his mind as he readied himself to get dinner prepared, wondering if Niffty had already stored the ‘meat’ inside the icebox for him.

But just as he was about to go check, his eyes caught sight of the platter on the countertop.

He paused for a moment, staring at it blankly.

And then he grabbed a fork, and lifted the cheesecloth to find a stack of golden-brown potato beignets that were still fresh and warm. Poking one of the tots, he popped it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

It was delicious.

Oh, darling Charlie.

* * *

While Charlie wasn’t one to mind wearing something off the rack or something she had already owned, Lilith would be rolling in her grave at the thought, and her mother sent her quite a hefty sum to have an _urban set_ made by the best seamstress in New Orleans. She needed an outfit that would be glitzy for the occasion. Knowing her father, no doubt would the party be extravagant; Lucifer Magne always had a knack for flair, to the point of being absolutely flamboyant.

And she didn’t think there was anyone more suitable to have the opinion on dressing from someone as so flamboyant as Angel Dust.

Since Vaggie wasn’t around, she thought it nice to bring Angel along as company. He’d been more than happy to follow if it meant getting to spend more time out of the hotel, and he had been quite pleasant thus far, save for the current _razzing_.

“Awww, isn’t that cute? You making him food and all!”

“Oh, hush, Angel. It was nothing.”

“Uh-huh. With the way your face is burning up, I don’t think it was nothing.”

If the seamstress – a strict-faced but otherwise lovely wizened woman – wasn’t busy having her stand still to take her measurements, Charlie was sure to have gone to him and give him a good smack on the arm. But for now, she could only huff in minor annoyance, only making her friend chuckle in amusement.

“Aw, come on, babe! I’m just messin’ with ya! I think it’s sweet.”

Charlie said nothing. She was flustered enough as it is. When the seamstress was done measuring her, she changed the subject by head to a large roll of fabric. “Oh! What about this one?” She held a stretch of bright yellow chiffon out to show him. “Really goes well with my hair, don’t you think!”

Angel’s nose scrunched at the colour, his lips pursing in disgust. “You looking to go for an afternoon tea party? Try something a little flashier!”

He seemed to be taking this quite eagerly, judging from the way he looked around the boutique, admiring all the different types of colours and materials and design display. Charlie took notice of the look of wonder and excitement – and was the reminiscence, she saw? – that was clear on his face.

“Do you like going dress-shopping, Angel?”

Angel nodded as he held a test piece to her frame. “Molly loved it, and Arackniss was too much of a pussy to wanna be seen in a boutique so I’m always the one she brings. That, and the job sometimes gets me dressing up. So, I know a thing or two.”

“Really now? Any advice you’d be so kind as to impart on me then?” she asked while holding up green fabric to show him.

“Sure, I can! And one piece of advice I can give you now is ‘stop tryna’ look so innocent’!” He said the last bit with such an exasperated slap to his forehead. “Come on, Charlie! Try something a lil’ flashier! Don’t you wanna at least try to impress Alastor?”

Charlie immediately swatted his arm and put a finger to her lips as she shushed him harshly. “Not so loud, will you!” she scolded. “Alastor’s really famous around here, and we’re not even together or anything yet! I don’t want to give off the wrong idea!”

But her scolding had an opposite effect on Angel, who whistled cheekily, giving her a particular look with raised brows. “Oh, but you wished you were, don’t you?”

She turned away from him sharply in what was a further annoyance, but she couldn’t help blushing with a smile threatening to tilt her lips as she looked away, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear as an act of fluster. Seeing this, Angel’s expression softened noticeably.

“You must really like him, huh?”

“Oh, am I that obvious?” she asked with a roll of her eyes.

“Like an open book, babe!” he said, ruffling her hair to which she puffed her cheeks out. “It’s cute really! Ain’t the joy of first love such a look?”

Charlie straightened up with a particular look and shook her head firmly. “Not really,” she clarified. “He isn’t really a first.”

That got Angel looking curious. “Oh, you’ve had someone before?”

She nodded with affirmation. “It was a family friend. We’ve been together for about a year?”

“And what happened with him?”

“He moved away to Britain for university. But we ended way before that, just ‘cause I felt like he didn’t really understand or supported me in the way I wanted.”

Angel hummed at her statement. “Lemme guess; he thought your whole charity disposition is a big joke too?”

The sigh she released confirmed that fact. “A harsh way to put it, but yes,” she said. “Just like all the others. Thinks it’s a load of _bushwa_ for me to want to waste time for people below the class. Just another pompous fool, and I didn’t really like having that in a partner.”

Angel scratched the back of his head at the last bit she said. “Well, from what I heard from Vaggie, isn’t Alastor the same?” he inquired.

That stopped Charlie in her tracks, whipping around back to him with a frown. “Vaggie’s been talking to you about Alastor?”

Angel scoffed loudly and rolled his eyes. “’Talk’? She complains about him every single chance she gets. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she completely hates his guts.”

“Just what exactly does Vaggie tell you?”

“Oh, lotta things,” he said roamed through all the fabrics that were on display. “Says he isn’t to be trusted and all because he’s _hinky_ as fuck, and she thinks that he’s planning to ruin you in some way because he’s some _heel_. And! That he looks like he wants to eat you.”

Charlie turned red as a tomato, making Angel laugh out loud at her reaction.

“Oh, not like that! Although, that was my initial thought too,” he snickered. “But no, she feels that he literally wants to eat you.”

“ _Says you!_ ” Charlie exclaimed indignantly, crossing her arms in disagreement. “She thinks Alastor is some sort of… cannibal?”

“Eh, who knows what kind of iffy thinkings Miss _Guastafeste_ has for Mr. Radio Host.”

Charlie kept quiet as she stewed over the ridiculous statement that had just heard, but she could feel something inside her starting to sink. Now, the guilt that she was keeping this a secret from Vaggie was started to gnaw at her, her best friend’s distrust in Alastor coming to the forefront of her mind as she remembered their conversation about it in her study.

“Hey, Angel?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t tell Vaggie about this, please?”

Angel had been distracted with scrutinising a length of velvet he picked up in his hands, but what she said made him turn his attention back to her, looking to see the fear and uncertainty and guilt that was clear on her face, and something in his head clicked then.

“You didn’t tell her about this?”

Nervously, Charlie shook her head. “I told her that I would be staying over with my parents,”

“And why’d you lie to her?” he questioned further with a cock of his head and a hand on his hips.

Charlie scratched the back of her head anxiously, bearing with the sinking feeling in her gut as she admitted. “Exactly because of this. Look, I get why she’s feeling that way about him. She has her reasons. But really, I don’t think Alastor’s that bad. Sure, he can be a bit of an ass, but he has been really kind and sweet to me.”

And suddenly, she was thinking back to that little moment at the radio station, and she gazed at her hand with a thoughtful smile. Even with her uncertainty of where their ‘relationship’ might be heading to, she still couldn’t help fancying the thought that her handsome neighbour might like her back in some way. She knew, as much as she felt bad about keeping this a secret from Vaggie, she was still adamant in her choice that there was absolutely nothing to worry about.

“I really do like him, Angel. Really. But I just didn’t want to worry Vaggie. I know I can take care of myself for this.”

Angel saw the way she had said that so heartfelt, and for a moment, he admired the sort of innocence she had in her. It was really sweet to think that she trusted him enough to tell him this and bring him along to pick out a new outfit, endearing even. Besides, he knew that he still owed her for giving him free lodging, and if the little thing that he can do in return was to help her keep this secret, then by all means. 

“Don’t worry, babe,” he assured her with a pat on her head. “My lips are sealed.”

Hearing his earnesty, Charlie gave him a grateful smile, and a comfortable silence fell on them until something outside the boutique's window caught her eyes. 

It was a man nailing a poster to the telephone pole next to the street. Nothing out of the ordinary, but she saw the emboldened title on top of the poster and there were two pictures right below it. She didn't know why, but something about that poster seemed really off, and she made her way closer to the window to have a clearer look. She stared long and hard at it, not really able to see clearly until the man moved away to the next telephone pole. Now in clear sights, she squinted at the poster from the distance a little more carefully.

And she froze.

She felt her heart sink to the ground.

Angel was surprised when Charlie suddenly walked out of the boutique with the rushed clicking of her heels outside. He followed after her, finding her standing completely still in front of the telephone pole, staring at it long and hard at the poster that had just been put up. It seemed that the longer she looked at it, the paler she got. The way her brows furrowed in worry and her lips starting trembling in the slightest piqued Angel's curiosity enough to come over and look over her head at the poster.

It was a missing poster, and underneath the word printed in big bold letters were clear pictures of the two idiots that were all too familiar with. The ones that he had the unfortunate luck to have encountered twice, that had tried to hackle them a second time had it not been for the thankful intervention from Charlie's radio host.

“Damn. Now, ain’t that a coincidence?”

Charlie said nothing to that, the sinking feeling in her only getting worse at the thought that this was too much of a coincidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet treats for a sweet gesture indeed! But looks like things aren't really turning out as sweet as it had looked from the front! Alastor's getting the earful from Husk but still chooses to be a cocky bastard about it, and what's supposed to be a swell day of shopping from Charlie takes a disturbing twist with her recent discovery! I wonder how all of these will fair along the way? We'll just have to stick around and find out then!
> 
> Finally, I get this chapter up! Apologies for the delay, my dear readers! But school has been demanding a lot of my attention as of late and I needed to work on the grade... But finally, I am freer now to focus on Smiling Man once more! The chapters ahead have already been written out, so no worries as updates are still coming your way! That, and Charlastor Week is coming up, so do lookout for a series of one-shots!
> 
> Thank you so much for those who have still stuck around with the story and have been waiting patiently for updates! And thank you for your well-wishes in the comments and tweets! I'd love to hear more from you, so please do feel free to drop a kudo or a comment on this chapter, and don't be afraid to hit me up at my Twitter @MuseVlt for nonsensical ramblings!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Buzzed – Come to a person’s door  
> Cat’s Pyjamas – Anything that’s good  
> Boozehound – Drunkard  
> Breeze off - Hurry  
> Butt me – Give me a cigarette  
> Deck - Pack  
> Chilled off – Killed  
> Barlow - Girl  
> Having a snoot full – Being drunk  
> Line – Insincere flattery  
> Beeswax - Business  
> Know your onions – Know what you are talking about  
> Not so good – Disapproving  
> Peepers – Detectives  
> Mug – Face  
> Honcho - Boss  
> Berry patch – A man’s particular interest in a girl  
> Beat it – Leave  
> Urban set – New gown  
> Razzing – Teasing  
> Bushwa – Bullshit  
> Hinky – Suspicious  
> Says you! – An expression of disbelief  
> Heel – Scoundrel
> 
> Italian translation:
> 
> Guastafeste - Killjoy


	23. Done Right, Read Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

“Two boys, this time. It’s just getting scarier and scarier, ain’t it?” the head of the radio station remarked as he scanned through today’s paper, reading the front article of the latest case of missing persons.

“Seems to be,” Tom remarked as he too read the same article from his own newspaper.

The article gave the run-down on how it had been more than a week since they’d been last seen, even reporting how it probably linked to a mass splattering of blood that’d been found one night on a pavement at Lafayette around the time of their vanishing. Of course, the dear families of these two young lads had put images of their faces up for the lost, spreading word around New Orleans and nearby in the hopes of having them found.

Alastor only quietly stared at the pictures printed out on the front page, solemnly thinking how it all wouldn’t have been the case to begin with if these two good-for-nothing souls hadn’t decided to jump him that very night.

“Well! Seems like I better get going!” He placed the newspaper on his desk before getting up and getting ready to leave since the working day was over for him. He’d rather head back home for a nice meal and a book than be sitting here reading news that wasn’t all that surprising to him.

“Oh, Al! Before I forget.”

The boss rummaged through the papers strewn all over his table before finding a couple of letters that were among the mess. “You got some mail here.”

“More fan letters, I assume?”

“Oughta be, considering you’re the only one ‘round here that gets it.”

Tom made an obvious scowl, which Alastor made a point to grin at him before bidding goodbye to the both of them. Making his way out, he busied himself with opening one of the letters to have a read on his _ankle_ home. He expected the typical sort that he would usually receive from fans, phrases and sentences that would hold a declaration of adoration for him. He already had a stack of those tucked into a drawer of his desk. So, probably after giving a shout-out to the sender with his thanks and well-wishes, it was going straight into the collection and never to be seen again.

But scanning the parchment in his hand, he found to his surprise that it was not a fan letter like he had expected, and his brow raised higher and higher at the surprising content of it.

He opened the next one, and by George, it held the same type of content as the first.

_My, my! Charlie’s sure gonna love this!_

* * *

It was all a coincidence.

Yes, that was all it was.

A coincidence.

It only just so happened that those two men had vanished without a trace, just like how that Mr. Alfonse had. It was just chance that all three of them had disappeared so suddenly after she had an encounter with them.

So, Charlie told that to herself, over and over again.

_This has nothing to do with me. I’m innocent. I didn’t even see them ever again._

It had been a few days after she had last seen that missing poster, and following up with a little bit of her own research, she discovered in today’s newspaper that those two were the latest in the string of missing cases that’s been happening around New Orleans. And a little more delving and she found out that none of them had turned up with any new leads, like Mr. Alfonse’s case. It seemed that every single one of them had vanished without a trace.

Try as she may push away the irking feeling in her gut, her mind was noisy against the intrusive dread.

_Nothing to do with me._

A loud knocking on the door was what tore her out of her silent dilemma, and she snapped back to reality, the newspaper she had been trying to read again forgotten on her lap. She stilled for a moment, staring at the headline that was facing up at her.

**_YOUNG MEN LATEST IN MISSING CASES! SOMETHING SINISTER AT HAND IN NEW ORLEANS?_ **

_Nothing to do with me._

_Absolutely nothing._

“Oh, Charlie!” A sing-song voice called out to her so suddenly.

_Alastor?_

Finally properly snapping out of the moment, she hurriedly got up to head to the door to answer, and she felt herself immediately smile when she saw Alastor there, a wonderful smile already in place to greet her sights.

But before she could greet him properly, he cut in immediately with a loud and cheerful, “Congratulations, darling!”

“Huh?”

Without another word, Alastor handed her a couple of letters that he had with him, both already unsealed. This only heightened her confusion more so, but when she saw the expectant look on his face, she proceeded to take a letter out and read it.

The first few seconds hung a silence between them, but then Alastor’s smile started growing at seeing her eyes starting to widen to the size of saucers as she read through the letter, her pupils looking through the words written with increased speed. The reaction only grew as she started reading through the second letter, her fingers covering her agape mouth in her state of surprise.

When she finally finished reading, she looked up at him in wide disbelief. “Alastor… Is this for real?”

The twinkle of wonder in her eyes that this must seem like a far-fetched dream was so adorable that Alastor couldn’t help but laugh in happiness for her.

“It seems so! Looks like you already have your first few patrons coming in line!”

The letters had been from two different people – one a mother with a son recently released from a _three-spot_ , and another an older ex-convict who had been in and out and had no place to go and nowhere to turn to. They’d both listened in to her interview on the radio, and both were willing to take up a stay there in hopes of receiving some help.

This seemed a lot to take in – not one, but TWO people had written back! That was definitely more than she had expected!

A few seconds passed in silence as Charlie continued staring with wide eyes. Alastor’s smile stayed, though slowly he was beginning to wonder if she was alright.

And he was answered when she unexpectedly let out a loud girlish shriek of delight.

“THIS IS AMAZING!”

She was bouncing up and down on the spot like a happy bunny, holding the letters close to her heart as though they were a precious gift, and it somehow reminded Alastor of just a week ago when she had done the same when he offered her a slot on the radio. And like that time, he beamed internally at the thought that he had been able to put that precious smile on her lovely face. Felt prideful, even.

Just as sudden as she started jumping in joy, she suddenly stopped and looked absolutely frazzled.

“Good golly! There’s so much to do!” she exclaimed. “I’ll have to do up the whole hotel!”

Alastor only listened in amusement as Charlie went on and on of all the new things that she needed to do while she subconsciously rushed inside to put on her coat and hat and grab her purse, still talking to herself when she came back out and locked the door behind her.

“Give the walls a new coat of colour and probably get some new bedsheets! Maybe a few decorations here and there…”

She seemed to have been too into her list of things to do to notice that he was still there until she got to the foot of the porch steps and stopped, finally ceasing to speak as she turned to look at him with a light smack to her cheek.

“Oh, _di mi_ , I’m sorry to have rushed out like that! Would you like to accompany me, Al?”

There was a pause in the air, and the unreadable smile that he had on made it difficult for her to determine if he was possibly hesitating her invitation. She waited, watching as he came down after her, and her smile came back to her lips when he held out a hand to her.

“Would love to, doll.”

* * *

It seemed like it’s been a while since they’d gone out together like this, although this was less of a date and more of errand-running.

In the short expense of time before the sun had set, Charlie had managed to head off to contractors, furniture stores and carpenters to arrange for some work to be done to the hotel. Alastor had been a huge help, especially in smooth-talking the owner of the furniture store to offer a hefty discount for everything that Charlie wanted to purchase.

Over dinner, which Charlie had strongly insisted that she paid for as a treat for the good news and for Alastor coming along with her, she had decided that she would plan a grand re-opening of the hotel a few months ahead. She was still in need of funding and employing for the hotel, so that would give her an ample amount of time to make sure that everything was all set and ready to go once constructions and refurbishing were done. Now all that’s left to do was to go back on the grind to find said potential investors and get interviews for guidance counsellors and general hotel staff.

“Oh, this is so exciting!” she bubbled to herself as they took a walk after finishing dinner, their arms linked although both her hands were squishing her cheeks in glee. “I can only hope they’ll love it at the hotel! All the activities I’ll have lined up for them!”

“Now, now, darling! While it is the absolute _cat’s pajamas_ , it’s only a couple of people now. Three, if you count your friend Angel. Don’t need to rush through everything as of yet.”

Despite Alastor’s point, Charlie did not seem deterred. “Yes, I should probably be more realistic, but I can’t help it! Imagine it, Al! This is just the start! And soon, more and more people would be coming to the hotel to want to be reformed. Crime rates will drop in no time! People will be able to live better lives!”

Alastor only nodded in answer, his eyes kept on her lips which stayed in the grin she had on since she had first received the news. Charlie sure did look mighty pretty with that smile, and seeing her delighted like so was a sight he needed to behold.

During the lull in their conversation, they suddenly heard the echoes of music coming close. The sound of street musicians filled the air, playing different rhythms that divulged into one melody in the ambience. The closer they walked, they realised that there was a small fair going on in Jackson Square.

“Ah, looks like one of those random town fairs have popped up again,” Alastor explained with a knowing look. “It happens ever so often here in New Orleans.”

While this was a scene already somewhat familiar to Alastor, it was a first for Charlie around these parts, and the eagerness that’s been filling her up since the evening was now bubbling like a bottle of champagne just waiting to pop. He saw the excitement that painted her, almost looking like a kid that’s about to head into the candy store. It was a very cute look, and it made him want to indulge her like so.

“How about we take a look? Unwind after a busy evening. Shall we?”

The only answer he needed was Charlie’s jubilant smile, and so off they went, strolling through the fair, stopping ever so often to watch a small performance or look at the booths selling an assortment of knick-knacks and trinkets. This little outing seemed to have only brought her happiness and excitement to new highs, and Alastor couldn’t really recall a time that she had ever looked as such since they’ve first known each other. It was so new to him, and it was so exciting.

“Oh! Take a look at that, Al!”

To where she pointed, tucked away in a corner of the fair, was a small makeshift tent, decorated with nothing except for a sign outside that read **_MAMA IDA’S FORTUNES_**.

“Fortune-telling?” Alastor said incredulously with a raise of his brow. “Didn’t take you for the type to believe in all that, Charlie.”

“Oh no, I don’t,” she clarified with a shake of her head. “But the whole point of it is to just have fun, right? Just have a kick of having your ‘future’ told?”

With her hand on his arm, she led him towards the tent with a carefree grin. “Besides, I’m feeling lucky tonight! Come on!”

Alastor only followed obediently on this little whim of hers. Approaching the tent, he parted the curtains aside to let Charlie go in, first seeing the ominous glow of candlelight. “Hello?” she called out.

Inside the tent sat an old Cajun woman behind a clothed table, who was reading a book when she looked up to see the both of them coming in. “ _Enchanté_!” she greeted warmly in her heavy accent, standing as she welcomed them with outstretched arms. “Mama Ida, at your service. You lovely folk here for a fortune tonight?”

Charlie nodded her head eagerly. “Yes, please!”

“Well, _cher_ , _come see_ and make yourself comfy.” The fortune-teller gestured to the chair across the table. Charlie took a seat there while Alastor stood right behind her quietly, and Mama Ida tucked her book under the table before placing her hands palms up on the table.

“Give me your hand, sugar.”

She leaned forward and placed a hand into the woman’s leathery ones, and the fortune teller closed her eyes as her thumbs began to trace the surface of Charlie’s palm. She stayed quiet and only watched as anticipation started filling the air. Even Alastor started leaning in, observing the scene warily.

“You’ve just received good news, have you not?”

That first thing spoken already had Charlie perking up excitedly. “Oh, yes! How did you know?”

“Your aura is light with luck and good tidings,” Mama Ida explained, a finger tracing a line on her palm. “The pieces are coming together and the wheel is soon to be set in motion. You will finally reap what you sow.”

“Really?!”

“ _Weh_. Fortune will come to you in due time. Your efforts will pay off and what you seek will be found.”

The light-hearted tone in her ‘prediction’ served to better Charlie’s already good mood, and she was certainly pleased to hear such wonderful things being told to her that really lifted her morale even more. She had been about ready to start bouncing in her seat all giddy with happiness, wondering what more she had in store.

But then, the fortune teller raised a finger up, making her cease immediately.

“I must give you a word of caution, though,” she began solemnly with a tone full of warning. “A meddling of the heart and the mind will bring you distress more than what you have ever faced. Turn you into a real _de’pouille_ if you aren’t too careful.”

Alastor huffed silently with a roll of his eyes, thinking how of course what the old woman had said before seemed too good to be true. But Charlie, on the other hand, seemed a bit at a loss of what she was hearing, uncertain of what to feel at this unexpected turn.

Distress more than what she’d ever faced? Now that did not sound good at all.

“So what do I do?” she asked the fortune teller. “Is there any way to stop it?”

Mama Ida hummed in contemplation as if seeking the answer from some unseen force around them. “Choose your path wisely, for there will determine your fate from the here on out.”

Before Charlie could ask any more, Mama Ida had now opened her eyes, smiling warmly at her as she released her hand. Charlie sat there in silence as she looked at her palm in wonder, in awe at what she had been told from simply a touch, but still feeling the inkling of nerves at the thought of the ‘distress’ that was coming for her.

“Don’t be afraid, darling,” Mama Ida spoke to her in her heavily-accented voice with a tone akin to motherly concern. “Just trust in your instincts and you will find a way.”

Charlie said nothing, only nodding quietly.

The woman then turned to Alastor, who was watching Charlie with mild concern. “Will you like your fortune told too, _podna_?”

Realising that she was speaking to him, he waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, no need. I’m just here accompanying the little lady, is all.”

Hearing that, Charlie stopped in her little moment of reflection to voice her disagreement. “Come on, Al!” Her voice had returned to normalcy, feelings of nervous doubt pushed aside as she focused on him. “It won’t hurt for you to try!”

Charlie was already out of the chair and gesturing for him to take a seat before he could even get a word in. The doll sure was an insistent one, and he only sighed with a defeated smile as he found himself facing the fortune teller, who already had her hand out. He hesitated, and Charlie remembered at that moment about his notions against touch, making her feel a bit dumb and ashamed that she hadn’t remembered.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said to him with a comforting smile.

“No need to be _honte_ , good sir,” Mama Ida encouraged, hands still open and ready to take his. “A feel is all I need.”

That seemed to have struck a chord in Alastor, and Charlie wasn’t too sure but he looked almost embarrassed and bordering on insulted that they were giving him such a look. “Oh, don’t worry about me, darling!” he assured Charlie, and to prove his point, he put his hand on the outstretched ones without further hesitation.

Turning it over to have his palms up, Mama Ida closed her eyes once more as her thumbs began to feel over his skin like she did with Charlie. Alastor stilled under her touch but otherwise made no disagreement as he watched her. Behind him, the doll gripped the chair as she loomed over watching in quiet anticipation.

“I can tell you are a very successful man,” the fortune-teller began. “Hardworking and good at what you do.”

Alastor chuckled heartily at that statement. “Heh, why sure, I’ll say,” he preened with pride. “You certainly must have heard me on the radio!”

Mama Ida did not answer him, her eyes still kept shut in concentration as her thumbs continued to stroke his palms, feeling every line as though to decipher something from it. While Alastor only eyed her hand cautiously, Charlie was watching the fortune teller intently, waiting in a bit of excitement as to what she would predict next.

But all of a sudden, she noticed how Mama Ida’s expression started to change. Her shut eyes were now squeezing tighter, just as her brows knitted into a frown. There was a sharp inhale of breath, and in the dim light of the candles, she could see her eyes moving around frantically underneath her lids, as though triggered by what she saw in the darkness.

“ _Kagou_ …”

Coupled with that look, that foreign word that was uttered didn’t seem so good. The anticipation in the air started to turn heavier into tension, and Alastor and Charlie could only look in a stressed silence, watching her, wondering what was going on.

“Now this here’s some real bad _juju_ in your essence, boy.”

As if on cue, both their eyes widened.

“I beg your pardon?” Alastor asked with a weirded-out cock of his brow. “’Bad ‘ _juju’_?”

Mama Ida’s eyes stayed shut, another shuddering breath taken as she continued. “I see the shadows lurking all around you. They be drawn to you like a moth to flame.”

“What in the world are you saying?” Alastor could not help himself but comment, his eyes narrowing in disdain.

The woman exhaled another breath urgently, as if it was suddenly difficult to breathe. “Each day their _ahnvee_ grows and grows, and they feed you as you feed them,” Mama Ida told him grimly, finger tracing a line on his palm in her search for more answers, shaking her head at what she’s feeling. “Continue on this path, your _envie_ will become your downfall.”

Despite the sudden turn of suspense, Alastor only started laughing incredulously. “Well, that’s practically nonsense!”

He sounded very unconvinced, but listen carefully and one could hear the bite in his voice that indicated he wasn’t happy with what he’s hearing, making Charlie almost thrown off by this minute display of agitation.

“ _Break it up_ ,” he prodded on loudly, almost as if to challenge her. “You don’t really see anything, do you?”

At that question, Mama Ida suddenly stilled, and even her fingers were not moving on Alastor’s. That made him turn mum immediately, and both of them watched her with bated breaths. The building up of suspense and unease was practically coating the air around them now, and Charlie swore that she could almost feel the beating of her heart resonating within the silence of the tent.

The moment came to a crescendo with a release of yet another shuddering breath, as Mama Ida said a simple sentence.

It was a really direct sentence.

It was also a really grave one too.

“I see your very being, coated in red.”

Something about that sentence made Alastor immediately withdrew his hand out of her grasp and suddenly get up, the chair dragging noisily as he did. The sudden break in the atmosphere made both Charlie and Mama Ida jump, both their eyes darting to him, who simply pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket and threw down a couple of notes onto the table.

Surprisingly, his demeanour was calmer now as compared to just a few seconds ago, his smile present as ever as if nothing happened. But Charlie knew him well enough to know that this wasn’t the case.

“Well, thank you for your time, Miss.” Alastor tipped his head to Mama Ida before looking at Charlie, eyes showing that he wanted to leave, _dusting out_ promptly.

The whole time, Charlie had stood in stunned silence, her attention too wrapped around what was said about Alastor’s fortune. But as she watched him leave the tent, she quickly took out a couple more notes from her purse and handed it to Mama Ida.

“Thank you for your time!” Charlie said in a rush of embarrassment as she hurried out of the tent, finding Alastor waiting outside. That strained smile was still there, a clash against his eyes that seemed to be clouded with thought. It was clearly forced and strained, as though to placed there to refrain himself from acting any other way.

“Alastor?”

His eyes turned to her, and the smile softened just the slightest bit.

“Well, I’m starting to feel a little _pooped_ now. How ‘bout we head back home?”

So, they started making their way out of Jackson Square, away from the fair and away from the fortune teller’s tent. It was a quiet walk, and Alastor kept to himself with his hands in his pockets. Charlie only followed alongside him, watching from the side of his eyes.

He looked bothered, a look that seemed quite foreign to his usually smiling demeanour, and it didn’t sit well with her.

“Alastor?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you alright?”

“Of course, darling! _Everything’s Jake_! Why would you ask?”

“Ah, well, ‘cause you seemed a lil’ shaken up from the fortune-telling…”

At that, he laughed out loud, taking a hand out of his pocket to wave the air in denial. “Nonsense! What’s a bit of mumbo-jumbo from some _grifter_ lookin’ to make a quick buck out of a _chisel_?” he guffawed.

“But, how could you tell that it was all nonsense?”

“Simple really!” he exclaimed, a hand waving to gesture to her. “Look at you, all bright-eyed in wonder and looking so elated. So it’s obvious that you were happy about something. A clear indication for her to make a guess that you got ‘good news’ for her to prattle on, with a sprinkling of the common warnings of _not taking any wooden nickels_ with it. Pure common sense!”

When he put it that way, it did make a lot of sense. Fanciful weaving of words, it did seem like something one would say to a jovial individual, and the last bit only a word of advice that anybody would give anyone.

But still, logical as it may sound, it didn’t answer one thing.

“Then what’s about yours?”

For a short moment, Alastor stilled at her question, eyes blank as though he too was trying to come up with some answer. Seeing him being so silent only added more to the fear and nerves that had taken root inside that tent, giving her goosebumps at the fresh reminder of it.

But his normal façade returned as smooth as though he had not just been silent, replying smartly. “Well, it would have called her out as an obvious _phony_ if she only gave us good fortunes, right? Being told what we want to hear simply wasn’t so realistic! Probably she’s just looking to cause a bit of a scare for us to more believing in ‘mystical all-seeing powers’.”

Alastor laughed at the thought mockingly, as if the speculation was the funniest thing he’s ever heard. On the other hand, though, Charlie did not laugh.

She knew she must have looked quite foolish at that moment. She herself had said that she did not believe in fortunes, but as much as she wanted to believe that it was all a bunch of _hooey_ , and coincidence or just good deduction or not, Mama Ida had been spot on with foretelling what had been going on in Charlie’s life from just the touch of her hand alone.

And if she had been that accurate, what could be made of from what she had read from Alastor’s hand?

Seeing her in that state of deep thought made Alastor suddenly stop walking, turning to her with an exasperated sigh. Without warning, he lifted a finger and brought the tip of it gently to her nose, and she jumped at the unexpected contact. Charlie was almost cross-eyed as she looked between his digit and his eyes, which were closer now as he leaned in with a grin that seemed smug.

“You best be careful not to make yourself a _chump_ for that sort of scam!”

That was all he said with a boisterous laugh, and just as suddenly as he did, he pulled away and brought her hand to his elbow again as they resumed walking.

Charlie only side-eyed him hesitantly, feeling an unresolved tension hanging in the air between them, but she held her tongue and said nothing more, unwilling to broach the subject any longer for his sake.

Alastor was about back to his usual self again once they’ve reached their neighbourhood. Reaching her doorstep, she had about forced herself to set it aside in her mind in favour of thinking about the progress that they’ve made today. That made her feel better immediately, and her mood began to lift at remembering those letters.

“Thank you so much for today, Alastor.”

Alastor bowed his head. “It’s always my pleasure, Charlie. I’m just glad that I was able to be of help today.”

A finger came forward to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear, and no doubt he would have felt the warmth of her cheek from his touch. “I’ll see you on Sunday?” he asked.

That reminder of their plans for this coming Sunday made Charlie chirp, “Oh, yes! This Sunday. Yes, I’ll see you then.”

With a nod, Alastor took her hand to give her a peck on the knuckles. “Rest well, darling,” he told her sweetly before releasing her and waving goodbye, making his way to his own house.

Charlie stayed where she was, wanting to make sure he got to his door before she went inside. But as she stood there watching, the thoughts that she had been forcing to the back of her mind started to creep out to the front, the unresolvedness starting to bite at her gut. Words started forming heavy on her tongue, weighing on her to speak.

“Hey, Alastor?”

Hearing her call out his name, Alastor paused in his step and turned to her. “Yes, Charlie?”

“It might sound silly, but I don’t think there’s anything bad about you at all.”

Without waiting for his reply, she waved to him one more time before finally entering her house. Out of her sight, she didn’t see how Alastor stayed rooted where he was, his mind a flurry of thoughts that’s been bothering him since the reading.

He knew there was no way in Hell that the fortune teller would have been able to have known, but what had been the case that she was able to spew words that hit close to him in that sense? Even with how cryptic it had sounded, it had been far too close of a call to be said in front of Charlie.

But clearly, it struck her in a different way, and his words echoed through his mind in the silence of the night.

_Oh, Charlie. Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing?_

If only she knew better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Alastor! Things clearly did not take a good turn for you as it did for Charlie, did it not? Your bad juju's just about to get you in all sorts of close calls and whole heaps of trouble it seems! I only wonder how you'll fare through this from here on? (hehehehe...)
> 
> FINALLY I UPDATE! Apologies for the long wait, guys! This chapter was a killer because I had to rework a few plotholes in the story that would have been too glaring if I didn't fix it! That, and let me tell you that searching on palm readings and Cajun slangs was just *slides finger against throat*P so please do pardon me if I got any details wrong! But alas! It is finally updated! And now I can finally proceed as smoothly as it can possibly go! That, and I've been posting my series of one-shots for Charlastor Week and it's been getting really good! So do check them out if you'd like!
> 
> From cardiac arrests caused by hot human Alastors and bursts of feels from our favourite sweet couple, I want to give a shout-out to @GalacticSpud, @Eve_Danie and @Astriacreations for blessing me with all the wonderful and gorgeous fanart that just makes me wanna straight-up cry and die from happy feels. Please do check them out and support them on Twitter!
> 
> As always, thank you all of you for tuning in, and hopefully the next chapter won't take too long to update! I hope you've enjoyed, and much love and appreciation for the kudos and comments that I absolutey adore! And please! If you'd like to talk to me, feel free to follow me on Twitter @MuseVlt ! I can't wait to meet you!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Ankle – Walk  
> Three-spot – Three-year jail sentence  
> Di mi – My goodness  
> Cat’s pajamas – Best thing  
> Break it up – Stop that, Quit the nonsense  
> Dusting out – Leaving  
> Everything’s Jake! – Everything’s good!  
> Grifter – Con artist  
> Chisel – Swindle  
> Not taking any wooden nickels – Not doing anything stupid  
> Phony – Fake  
> Hooey - Nonsense  
> Chump - Person marked for a con or a gullible person.
> 
> Cajun slangs:
> 
> Enchanté – Delighted to meet you  
> Cher – Dear  
> Come see - Come here  
> Weh – Yes  
> De’pouille – Anything or anyone who is a mess  
> Podna – Friend  
> Honte – Embarassed  
> Kagou – Oh no  
> Juju – Energy  
> Ahnvee – Hunger  
> Envie - Craving


	24. Mischance Encounters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

June sixth at six o’clock.

Such a rather ominous date and timing, taking the numbers into consideration. It seemed almost foreboding at the thought of what was to come.

Alastor stood in front of his mirror, _gandering_ with his outfit of choice. It was one of his best suits, one that he had for a while and hadn’t been having a reason to wear it out, but still a _hip to the jive_ in current fashion standards. Charlie had told him to dress to his _swankiest_ , and he wasn’t one not to dress to impress.

Yet, it was such a weird thought, how he was here prettying himself up to go meet Charlie’s parents. Sure, it wasn’t a formal meeting, as a suitor would to the parents of the woman he intended to court, and it was just a simple party that she needed company. But yet, here he was, straightening out his bowtie and smoothing down the lapels of his suit to make sure he was prim and proper, making sure to look his best.

This does seem to be getting out of hand.

At the thought, Husker’s disapproving warning came to thought like an intrusive and irritating earworm. Truly, just what has he gotten himself into? How far deep did he fall that he’s still having Charlie around to actually be accepting this sort of invitation from here?

 _Your_ envie _would be your downfall._

Damn that blasted fortune teller! It’s been a couple of days since, but it’s enough in having been put on edge at the words that struck him deep to his core and ignited an agitation he had been so thoughtless in exposing even for just that one moment. He grimaced internally at the thought of it, chastising himself for being so worked up over a stupid fortune.

Shaking himself out of unfavourable thoughts, Alastor simply took a deep breath and stretched his grin. Any bit of hesitation left was ignored at how it was too late to reconsider now.

He was all ready and should be heading over next door to pick up the lovely dame.

* * *

Yes, today was the day.

June sixth, her beloved father’s birthday.

Charlie had spent the last hour getting ready, now removing the last of her curlers, watching the blonde tendril bounce out in a perfect spiral. Her makeup was done and she was all dressed, and it wouldn’t be long until it was finally time to leave to go to Baton Rouge.

Her father’s birthday parties usually did not stir up some excitement in her, but it was different now with Alastor coming along. She could only force herself to take her time in getting all dolled up so as to not be too overtly eager to see him. But her patience paid off when there was a knock on her door just as she went downstairs, and she had to take a moment to breathe and maintain her composure as she opened the door. 

And there he was, all tall and spiffy-looking, donning a red pinstripe tuxedo with the tail going halfway down the back of his thigh, over a red shirt that had a design that looked like a black cross and decorated with a bowtie, and a pair of burgundy dress pants.

She was at a loss for words, stunned from the eccentricity of his full red ensemble while her eyes drank in the image of him looking so dapperly and absolutely dashing in his whole _get-up_. God, she didn’t think that his hair slicked back would do wonders in accentuating his good looks.

Alastor was a show-stopper and an eye-catcher, and he was absolutely gorgeous.

“Is that a monocle?”

Really now. Was that the ONLY thing she could say?!

Alastor laughed out loud heartily. “My dear! I’ve put in all this effort to look my best, and all you took notice of was my monocle? You wound me!” He put his hands over his heart and mimicked an expression hurt.

“Oh! I mean, you look wonderful too!” Charlie sputtered out, giggling in embarrassment. “A real _Brooksy_ , I’ll say! My, aren’t you a _looker_ in that suit.”

"Well, I'm afraid I pale in comparison to how gorgeous you look."

His eyes trailed to her outfit, a maroon silk piece that hung on her frame with what curves she had accentuated by a matching sash around her waist. And considering that it was a special occasion, she was putting the definition of ‘flair’ to work with a pair of silk gloves and a jewelled headband that hugged her blonde curls.

Damn, was Charlie was a mighty fine _tomato_ in Alastor’s eyes.

“We match somewhat.”

“It wasn’t intentional.” She said it with such a shyness it almost seemed as though she caught in something.

But Alastor would not let it drop, instead finding this to be very pleasing to him as he leaned in to give her a charming grin, eyes still appreciatively admiring her outfit. “Well, I must say that this is quite flattering nonetheless. It’s almost as though you were meant to compliment me.”

"Stop it." Charlie could only hope that the rouge that she had powdered onto her cheeks would hide the sudden heat she felt there.

Distraction thankfully came in a car horn sounding, and both turned to see a _flivver_ heading up to the front of her house. Razzle and Dazzle waved from inside the car.

"Ah, they're here."

"Well, we shouldn't be delaying any longer. Shall we?"

* * *

Alastor knew that Charlie came from money, but judging from the glamorous mansion they were approaching, he hadn’t expected that she was _lousy with it_.

It looked worth about ten to twenty or even more years’ worth of his paycheck, something fit for a dignitary even. Just what exactly could be done in that large expanse of space? There would be too much that even he might not be sure what to do with it should he own one!

The car came to a stop in the driveway, and Razzle and Dazzle came out to hold the doors open for both of them. Alastor admired the image of the building in all its glory, while Charlie only felt the tinge of nerves hitting her at the moment.

"Well, this is home," she remarked, coming to his side and looking wherever he was looking.

"An impressive one! Nothing compared to our humble little abodes."

"Eh, New Orleans feels more homely."

“Well, on a personal bias, I am inclined to agree.”

Alastor offered his elbow for her to take, and together they followed the butlers into the house, where he continued to admire all the expensive furniture that decorated the place. Charlie, who was all too familiar with these hallways and corridors, was more distracted by the distant sound of a live band playing outside.

“Oh, they’re holding it in the backyard,” she remarked.

Befitting the grandeur of the mansion, the backyard was about the size of a small meadow, barricaded by forest and lit up by various lanterns surrounding a makeshift dance floor right in the middle. It was just past sunset, but there was already a multitude of guests dressed to the nines in their newest _glad rags_ , standing around and mingling with drinks in hand, and some dancing to the band that was playing a jovial beat that lifted the energy of the party.

“Well, this certainly what I wasn’t expecting of a birthday party,” Alastor marvelled all around them, taking in the scene with awe, clearly not the small party he had initially envisioned. “And there’s even liquor here! Excellent!”

Seeing the bars that were set up and serving said liquor, Charlie put a finger to her lips cheekily. “Daddy gets them bootlegged, but don’t tell anyone!’

“My lips are sealed, darling,” he chuckled, mimicking her and putting his fingers to his lips. “Are parties at the Magnes always a _blow_ as this?”

“Oh, sometimes bigger! You should’ve seen New Year’s of twenty-four. Daddy really went overboard with the fireworks on that one!”

Clearly, Charlie wasn’t a stranger to the grand parties her parents held, but as they joined the crowd, she only hung onto Alastor’s arm as her eyes searching far and wide for any sign of a familiar face. She came up with none, knowing that these were probably all her parents’ friends and associates. Not unexpected, but the masses of strangers did make her feel just a slight bit nervous.

“Charlie! My darling sweet apple!”

Hearing that loud but sweet voice made Charlie turn in a flash to see her mother fast approaching her, and she smiled in delight and unlinked herself from Alastor as she too rushed to her, wrapping her in a big warm hug when they’ve met halfway.

“Hello, Mommy!” she greeted aloud, hugging back tightly. They stayed like that for a while, and Charlie felt comforted by the warmth of her mother as it washed away the nerves prior and immediately replaced with ease.

Lilith pulled back to cup her cheeks in her hands. “I’m so glad you could make it, sweetheart. Pardon your silly mother, but it feels like forever since I’ve last seen you. I was wondering when ever will you show up!”

“Oh, Mommy, I’ve missed you,” Charlie smiled, holding her mother’s hands. “And I’m here now!”

Lilith smiled brightly, but then her eyes darted to Alastor, who stood behind a respectful distance away in an attentive posture, hands crossed behind his back and all, with a polite smile.

“Oh! Darling, you never told me you were bringing company! And a handsome one at that!” The look in Lilith’s eyes held cheeky suggestion, making Charlie blush. Lilith was known for being forward to everything, especially things concerning a smidgen of her ‘love life’.

Ignoring the embarrassment, Charlie gestured Alastor to her. “Mommy, may I introduce you to my dear friend and companion for tonight, Alastor Carlon.” She made an emphasis on the term ‘friend’ to Lilith, who raised an unconvinced brow though her suggestive smile stayed.

This – thankfully – escaped Alastor’s notice. At his introduction, he stepped forward and gave a slight bow as he offered a hand to Lilith. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Magne!” he greeted kindly. “I do hope I’m not being a _crasher_ here.”

“Charmed,” Lilith replied with a welcoming smile, putting a hand in his and allowing him to press a quick peck to her knuckles. “And no worries, Mr. Carlon. Any friend of Charlie’s is welcomed here!”

“Call me Alastor, I insist! We’re all friends here, I’ll say!”

Lilith hummed in agreement. “I just hope you’ve been quite good company for my dear Charlie,” her tone taking on one of motherly concern as she eyed him.

Shooting a glance at Charlie with a warm smile as he adjusted his monocle almost modestly, he replied, “Well, I do hope so! It’s been an honour for her to grant me with kindness as her lovely mother does.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Alastor!” Lilith teased, and a laugh was shared between the two. Nice to know that the two of them are getting along quite well, though at the expense of Charlie, who could only roll her eyes in mild embarrassment as she sought to change the topic.

“Where’s Daddy?” she asked her mother, looking around the vicinity. “I haven’t seen him yet. Is he around here?”

“Oh, your father’s off entertaining some of his associates, but I’ll find you once I’ve caught him.” Putting a hand on both Charlie and Alastor, she gestured to the party happening all around them. “In the meantime, go and have fun, you two! Charlie, darling, do be kind as to show your guest around.”

With a quick smooch to her cheek, Lilith waved before she disappeared into the crowd, leaving Charlie and Alastor to their own devices. Looking at the party going on in full swing, Charlie was suddenly starting to feel a bit out of place, her mother’s departure taking away the ease.

“Well, we shouldn’t be standing around like _cancelled stamps_!” Alastor exclaimed, taking hold of her arm once more. “What say we grab ourselves a drink, doll?”

At his suggestion, Charlie nodded for the sake of something to do. And so, they started making their way through the mass. But no soon after, she began to notice something off. It had been mild at first, a sudden comment here and there, but slowly it started to grow in the chatter, and she can clearly make out what was being said around her.

" _Di mi_ … isn't that Alastor Carlon?"

"Alastor Carlon?"

"Oh my gosh, are you for real?"

"It is him!"

"Golly, he's much more handsome than I thought!"

" _The_ Alastor Carlon!"

"Bless my stars that I decided to come here!"

Charlie supposed she wasn’t to be surprised. Alastor was still probably _the_ most famous radio host in Lousiana, his popularity spreading far and wide throughout the South and probably even beyond. It wouldn’t be such a shocker to know that he’s amassed himself some admirers state-wide – herself included, but he didn’t need to know that! – and it definitely looked like they’ve chanced upon a few tonight.

“It seems that you’ve got yourself some fans around here,” she casually remarked with a nonchalant smile.

“Ah, yes. It may seem so,” he duly noted as he caught the eyes of some who were openly gawking at him, and it seemed that noticing them was a mistake at this point, because immediately ladies of all ages were starting to crowd around the two in a bid to have a closer look of him. Charlie had to step aside so that she wouldn’t be flanked by the sudden loud requests for autographs and a conversation.

“Mr. Carlon! I’d love to have your autograph!”

“I tune in almost every day to listen to you, Alastor!”

“I’ve written a few letters in! Did you read them?”

Eyes wide at the sudden crowd, Alastor raised his hands in an effort to quell them, his voice kind but somewhat flustered. “Ladies, ladies! Please! I’m flattered but I’m here with a date!”

It was in an instant that several of the women flashed their eyes to her, and Charlie was suddenly overwhelmed with the heated looks that she was receiving. Clearly, they weren’t all that happy that there was somebody occupying the attentions of the man, not knowing or not caring that she was the daughter of the birthday man himself, and the last thing that Charlie wanted was to cause a stir about herself that wasn’t needed.

“Oh, don’t worry about me! Go ahead!”

Alastor looked at her with an uncertain quirk of his brow. “Darling, are you sure?” he asked her in concern. “It’ll be quite rude of me as your companion to leave you on your own.”

Charlie shook her head reassuringly. “No worries about me, Al. It’ll be even ruder of you to your fans if you don’t at least spar them some of your time.”

With a comforting smile, Alastor gave a nod to her before turning to his adoring fangirls and gracing them with his attentions, making them completely forget about her and go into a frenzy as they started pulling out napkins and whatever else they could have his signature on. Charlie took this moment of distraction to slip away from the scene, venturing further into the party.

Now that Alastor wasn’t by her side, she seemed even more lost than ever, not finding one decent person she could possibly strike up a conversation with to pass the time. She sighed in almost defeat. This certainly wasn’t how she’d imagined she would enjoy her own father’s birthday.

A butler passed through with a platter of hors d'oeuvres, and in her boredom, she made quick to snatch a single stuffed mushroom and popping it into her mouth to pass the time with a good snack.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s here.”

Charlie froze mid-chew, and suddenly the mushroom didn’t taste so good as her gut filled with disdain.

As much as it’s been a few years since they last saw each other, she could recognise that horrid voice anywhere, and internally groaned as she turned to look at the girl who was looking right back with an ugly sneer.

“Hello, Helsa.”

There was a time long ago where Charlie had considered Helsa Von Eldrich a best friend. Growing up together gave on that implication. Playmates as little girls and debutantes later on, more often than not they’d be mingling together with the other daughters of their mothers’ circle that would meet over brunch and tea. But alas, as she grew to be one of the most prominent socialites in the Jazz Age, Helsa turned out to be everything Charlie refused to be – spoilt, selfish and arrogant who likened anyone below her class as simply dirt.

Charlie wouldn’t have paid any care for it at all until she’s started being the centre of her ridicule for her differing ideals, and it all came to a definite halt when Charlie ‘accidentally’ poured a drink all over her in the middle of a soiree and ruining one of her more expensive furs.

“My, dear Charlie!” Helsa greeted aloud with arms stretched in welcome, with a grin too sickly sweet. “I thought birthday clowns were outdated until I saw you showed up!”

The insult was not unexpected, and Charlie only quirked a brow coolly. “Oh? Almost as outdated as that old mink scarf around your neck? I’m surprised it hasn’t even rotted off like your personality.”

A flash of irritation that appeared in her snake eyes wasn’t missed. “Now, now. No need to be so crabby! Can’t an old friend say ‘hello’? I mean, it has been a while since I last saw you!”

“If it isn’t obvious, I’m not really keen on even laying my sights on you.”

“What a coincidence! Neither am I!” she bartered back, her sneer growing as she came closer until she was almost up to Charlie’s face. “Considering you’re quite the eyesore around here.”

Now, this was just getting too taxing for Charlie, who dropped the civility, simply forcing her lips back into a malicious grin as she replied, “Funny, I’d say the same considering how your most memorable look was akin to a drowned rat.”

Something in Helsa finally snapped at the mention of that one incident, and Charlie didn't think that it was possible for a face to get uglier until she saw how her lips pulled back to show teeth, her nostrils almost flaring as she was seething.

“Now, listen here, you little b-“

“Helsa. Behave yourself.”

The heated glares exchanged between the two were growing in animosity until that voice sounded out, and dread punched Charlie hard in the gut.

Both girls turned to see a tall figure dressed completely head-to-toe in green approaching them, a walking cane in hand that just seemed just as over the top as the top hat he had on was. Although he had come first greeting his sister, his eyes were fixed on Charlie, giving her an up-down.

“Mother’s looking for you,” he informed Helsa with a look that told her to get going.

The socialite grimaced, but obeyed, shooting one more glare quickly at Charlie and ignoring her brother’s tutting of disapproval as she left to find her mother.

Now Charlie was wishing so much to be anywhere else but here.

“Charlotte.”

He always had a preference to call her by her full name instead of her nickname, being a man of formalities. And she supposed formalities were to be called for as she took a deep breath to regain her composure, forcing a weak smile to her new companion.

“Seviathan.”

Seviathan Von Eldrich, heir to the Von Eldrich fortunes and her ex-boyfriend, bowed his head with a polite smile. “You’re looking as lovely as always,” he kindly complimented.

“Thank you,” Charlie replied civilly, albeit stiffly. “I thought you’d still be in Britain.”

“On term break now,” he answered, noting now that there was the faint trace of a British accent in his voice. “How have you been?”

“Good, and you?”

“Good, as well.”

The conversation was exactly how she had remembered him; stifling, as well as dry.

“I do apologise for my sister’s behaviour,” Seviathan started again, looking to where he could see Helsa in the distance. “It seems those classes on etiquette had sure been a waste.”

Charlie said nothing, still looking away because admittedly, it really felt that cumbersome to have her ex-boyfriend in her presence. For certain there were no feelings lingered behind for him – that ship has definitely sailed – but it was still very uncomfortable for her to be in the presence of her former flame. I mean, of course, it would be; Charlie was sure that he didn’t quite appreciate how she had bruised his ego when she had left him so suddenly whilst in the midst of courting her seriously.

Seviathan must have mistaken her silence for aversion, and he sighed and shook his head. “Come now, Charlotte. It’s been a couple of years since we last saw each other. Let’s set aside any hostility between us, shall we?”

Tucking his cane underneath his arm, he held out a gloved hand to her, an inviting smile on his lips as he asked, “Might I interest you with a drink and a chance for us to catch up?”

Now that was definitely the last thing she’d ever want right now, and her mind was made up to reject him on the spot, to leave the scene and be on her merry way to enjoy the rest of the party. In a bit of distraction, she could only turn away from him to look for something – anything! – to give her an excuse to leave.

"Darling, there you are!"

That voice was like a saviour to her, and she did little to hide her relief as she ignored Seviathan's question and turned to see Alastor rushing to her with that comforting smile. She could tell that he must've been searching for her, from how relieved and frazzled he had looked.

"Alastor!” she greeted him warmly as he came to her side. “You finally managed to run from your adoring fans?"

Alastor laughed exasperatedly, “Yes! A very rambunctious bunch, I must say! It’s only a miracle I survived while their _goofs_ were glaring daggers at me!”

They shared a laugh, and Charlie felt much better at the comfort that Alastor brought with him. But quick was she to notice his eyes flickering to Seviathan, who had straightened up and had his hands behind his back as he eyed the both of them quite intently.

Now, this was definitely awkward for her, having her ex-boyfriend and her current man-of-interest facing each other while she stood between them. But for the sake of not making it more than it was, she kept her cool, gesturing Alastor to Seviathan.

“Seviathan, I’d like you to meet my dear friend, Alastor Carlon.” Then to Alastor, she merely waved towards Seviathan. “Alastor, this is Seviathan Von Eldrich. The son of my father’s friend.”

“Well, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Von Eldrich!” With one of his famous friendly smiles, Alastor stuck his hand out for a shake, but Seviathan only looked at it in a sceptical manner, until he noticed the raised brow of Alastor’s and the disapproving look of Charlie’s, making him take his hand and give it a firm shake.

“Pleasure’s mine,” he replied with a flat tone. “Apologies, I don’t seem to recall your face around these parts.

“Well, that’s because I’m not a familiar here.” Alastor wrapped an arm around Charlie smoothly, tilting his head to her. “Darling Charlie invited me as her one and only companion.”

Seviathan's sights flashed to where his hand touched her arm and how Charlie only looked down to the floor in a weak attempt to hide how her cheeks burned through her rouge. But Alastor kept all eyes on him as his smile turned the slightest bit smug.

“I see,” Seviathan noted, looking away and pretending like he hadn’t just been almost glowering. “And what exactly do you do, Mr. Carlon? Cotton? Sugar? The stocks?”

“Neither,” Alastor clarified with a shake of his head. “I work with the radio.”

Hearing that, Seviathan loftily raised an eyebrow. “The _radio_?” he repeated with a haughty smirk.

It was obvious that Alastor didn’t take a liking to that tone, but controlled was he as he kept his smile on and continued to converse, “Not really as impressive as being a sugar baron or a cotton king, but it’s honest good work! And I don’t play with the stocks. No sir, dangerous game that is! Won’t know when that thing’s gonna crash and burn when we least expect!”

Seviathan didn’t seem all too impressed. “How… interesting.” Clearly it wasn’t, judging by how bored and unimpressed he voiced himself. “Though, I can’t quite say that I know of you.”

Narrowing his eyes just the slightest, Alastor smartly replied, “Well, looks to me you’ve been living under a rock because they do, Mr. Von Eldrich.”

Nothing more was said between the two men, who only engaged in a stare-down that only brought Charlie’s nerves even more on end as she looked between the two. Usually, a girl would be flattered if she had been caught between two men, but definitely not her! This was such a situation she definitely did not want to be in!

But any possibility of the two of them having a go at each other was put down when Seviathan cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders.

“Well, Charlotte, it seems I shouldn’t be taking up any more of your time.”

Giving another obvious side-eye too Alastor, he simply tipped his hat and bowed his head to her with a polite smile, and with a swift turn, he walked away from the two. They stayed where they were until he was finally out of earshot, and Alastor finally released his hold on her with a flat chuckle.

“’Charlotte’?”

Hearing how Alastor mockingly mimicked the way Seviathan said her name, she rolled her eyes in irritation as she started to walk away. “Oh, don’t mind him. Goodness, as if he couldn’t be any more insufferable.”

That tone of voice caught Alastor’s attention immediately, and his eyes perking up with a spark of curiosity. “Now is that you being tetchy, I hear? Why’s that? You and the _bo_ have history together?”

Charlie immediately felt her gut do a little twist when faced with that question, and her mouth went dry with hesitation to answer. Alastor definitely noticed this, but pressed on. “Oh, come now, darling! You can tell me if you did!”

Alastor was ever the persistent one, and Charlie could only sigh in defeat as she said it all in a rush to get it out once and for all.

“Well, we’ve dated. Together for a bit, even. Thought it was going to get serious but then I realised he’s just another _gimlet_ I don’t need around me.”

Charlie definitely did not want to divulge much information about her past relationship with Seviathan, especially to Alastor, who she noticed was starting to look at her blankly, showing some indication that he was listening to something that was not all too pleasing to his ears.

But he dropped the topic. Clearing his throat, he gestured to a bar quite a distance away. “Well, I should probably get us those drinks. What’s your poison?”

“Oh, um… A Bee’s Knees, please.”

“Stay right here, darling. I’ll be right back.”

Before she could insist to follow, Alastor was already heading off in the direction of the bar, leaving Charlie once again on her own. She stood to the side, probably looking like a _cancelled stamp_ but she couldn’t bring herself to mingle after the unfortunate encounter with the Von Eldrich siblings left a bitter taste on her tongue. That, and while she appreciated that he did not press on the topic any further, she pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks as she could only she worry that she probably made Alastor a little too uncomfortable with revealing that titbit of her past.

“Oh, Charlie!”

Broken out of unwanted thoughts, Charlie turned to the call of her name to find her mother walking over with a smile, dragging someone else in tow.

Meanwhile, from his vantage point at the bar, Alastor watched Seviathan Von Eldrich among a group of giggling young girls, clearly charming their knickers off with whatever they found attractive in that smarmy face. 

He sneered at the sight, feeling a twinge of disgust that such a creature could even have had the pleasure of being with Charlie. Clearly a pompous bore with no excitable qualities, that one was! Charlie certainly had some questionable taste in seeing him as a partner in the past. It only seemed like a good thing on his end that she’s at least up-ed her standards with himself.

“Here you go, _mac_.” The bartender caught his attention when he placed two drinks on the countertop – his favoured gin-and-tonic and Charlie’s requested Bee’s Knees. Thanking the man, Alastor only threw one more dirty look to the unsuspecting Seviathan before deciding it wasn’t worth his time to do something about that ugly mug now.

The party was really turning up and he was trying his best to be mindful of the drinks so that not even a drop spilled. Thankfully, Charlie wasn’t too far away, and it looked like her mother had found her once again. Keeping a careful eye on the refreshments in hand, he beelined his way back to her, where she smiled at him once more when he returned to her side.

“Oh, you’re back!” he heard her say, and finally safe and still, he looked up to once more greet Charlie’s lovely mother and engage in a polite conversation with the two ladies.

And that’s when Alastor realised then that there was somebody else with them.

And he froze.

“Alastor, I’d like to introduce you to my father….”

This was impossible.

A cruel twist of fate.

There was no way this could be so.

Alastor wasn’t sure what was going on now, but what he did know was that in the short amount of time since he looked at him, his heart started racing and his tongue went dry, as did a familiar but unsavouring tinge of anxiety hit his guts, causing his nerves to start going off the edge, making him feel like the smile he had on was starting to crack.

Oh, how he must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

No. He probably looked more like the night they’d first met when all bloodied and crazed from the high of two kills on that corner in Lafayette.

“…Lucifer Magne.”

Standing before him, short and blonde and dressed from head-to-toe in white in a showman-like fashion, was the Big Apple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meeting your date's parents for the first time will always be a stressful ordeal for any man, but for Alastor, it's clearly turning out to be a shit show, isn't it?
> 
> And so the dreaded reunion arrives! Just when Alastor thought he could have some genuine fun with Charlie at the party, it turns out pretty much unsavoury for him, don't you think? Oh, Al. There's no escaping now that he's got you in direct plain sight. Whatever can only happen, dear readers?
> 
> Well, I'll give you a hint and say it can only go DOWN.
> 
> But who knows? Cunning Alastor might find his way around it, and perhaps silly Charlie would still remain none the wiser of it!
> 
> I know many of you have been waiting for this scene to happen, and I can only hope that I was able to deliver! Apologies for the lack of activity! I took some time with editing this one after Charlastor Week ended because I needed to recharge the writing drive, but it can only continue smoothly from here once I'm done with school in a couple more weeks! 
> 
> Thank you so much though for staying tuned for updates as well as keeping up with me on Twitter where I'm always welcoming a greeting and a conversation! As always, your kudos and comments are ever so lovely, and I appreciate so much that you would take the time to hear you out! I can only hope you'll be more excited for what's to come next!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Gandering - In the process of dudding up  
> Hip to the jive – Trendy  
> Swankiest - Stylishly luxurious and expensive  
> Spiffy - Smart in appearance  
> Get-up - A style or arrangement of dress, especially an elaborate or unusual one.  
> Brooksy - Classy dresser  
> Looker – Attractive person  
> Tomato – Pretty woman  
> Flivver – A Ford automobile  
> Lousy with it – To have lots of  
> Glad rags – Fancy clothes  
> Blow – Wild party  
> Crasher – Uninvited person  
> Cancelled stamps – Wallflowers  
> Goofs – Boyfriends  
> Mug - Face
> 
> Edit (10/4/2020): The name of Charlie's ex-boyfriend has been changed from 'Harold' to 'Seviathian' after Faustisse's stream confirming this!


	25. Spitting Thirds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Life has a funny way of throwing a curveball sometimes.

“Have we met before?”

Unfortunately for Alastor, it had to be thrown right at his face _._

“No, I don’t believe we have.”

But life was funny like that, wasn’t it?

“Strange,” the man – _Lucifer_ – remarked with a tilt of his head, eyes studying him curiously. “You’re an awful lot familiar. Swear I would have remembered you anywhere.”

The mocking glint in the man’s eyes, watching the way he was bluffing, it all made Alastor’s nerves go on a frenzy while he remained still and stone-faced. The man was bluffing – Alastor was _made_ and he knew it. He knew the stakes that were at hand here for him, considering the circumstances.

“You might have heard of him, Daddy,” Charlie quipped with a smile. “Alastor’s a radio host. A very good one too!”

But under all sorts of circumstances, did it have to be the one where he turned out to be the father of his goddamn neighbour?!

“Oh! I thought you sounded familiar!” Lilith suddenly exclaimed with a clap of her hands. “You’re the one who interviewed our darling for her hotel! Thank you for helping her out with that, by the way!”

While Lilith was somewhat gushing, her husband only quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, although the look in his eyes gave away the indication that it was something he already knew. “A radio host? My, how interesting,” he said in a tone that seemed marvelled although it was clearly not, turning more questioning as he inquired, “Is there anything else that you do, Mr. Carlon?”

Hearing the question that, without a doubt, held a double meaning behind it, Alastor finally broke out of his stupor and cleared his throat, not realising until then how dry his mouth was. “Nope, nothing else at all,” he answered the lie as calmly as he could, ignoring the scratchy feeling of the dryness of his mouth. “I’m quite a boring _egg_ outside of work, I’ll say.”

The Big Apple only hummed, which might seem out of being unimpressed if not for the fact that Alastor knew better to realise _that’s the bunk_ and he was truly unconvinced. And why wouldn’t he be? The man had seen for himself what he did outside of work. There was no point lying to him, and it was disconcerting to be standing in front of him feeling so bare despite being decked out in his best suit.

Looking away from the eyes of the Big Apple, he turned to Charlie and handed her drink, taking a sip of his gin-and-tonic to quench the cottony feeling of his tongue, although the burn from the alcohol made him wince slightly.

Over her drink, Charlie eyed him in concern. “Alastor? Are you alright?”

Hearing her concern made his grin widened instantly as if it was reflex. “Oh, yes!” he lied through his teeth, “Just that this here’s some real strong _hooch_.”

A laugh was forced out of him to cover up that close slip-up of his demeanour, but one quick look at her and suddenly he found it difficult to look at Charlie in the eyes, throwing him off immensely. How the tables have turned considering usually he was the one making her look away. Unnerved once more, Alastor moved his gaze away from her, and this definitely did not escape her notice.

But then Lilith leaned in to look at him with worry. “Oh, goodness. Are you feeling alright? You seem a little flushed.”

Alastor was about to give a quick response of assurance if it wasn’t for the look on Lucifer’s face that cut him short. The blond man was eyeing him carefully, watching his expressions and his movements, the corner of lips tilted up in a smirk as if he was waiting for a slip-up from him.

“Why yes, you do seem quite flushed, _my friend_. I wouldn’t think a simple gin-and-tonic would have such a _bite_ on you.”

If Alastor hadn’t known any better, he would have thought that he was just poking fun at what seemed like his incapability to hold down his liquor. But he did know better, enough to quickly catch on to the last bit of the sentence that sent his nerves on end for the umpteenth time. 

Against the sinking feeling of his gut, he forced himself to stretch his grin further as he waved a hand in dimissory. “No, I’m fine,” he exclaimed a tad bit louder than he would like. “And this sure is a _hooker_! Been a while since I’ve had a good drink!”

The liquor did taste good, probably the most top-notch quality that bootlegged could offer. But the taste was soured by this moment, how it was all a farce on Alastor’s part, as much as it may have been for Lucifer, the both of them eyeing each other intently.

And this definitely was noticed by Charlie, who watched them quietly, sensing the building of tension in the air that came from the both of them.

But that tension was broken immediately by Lilith, who seemed to not have noticed the exchange as she was busy looking elsewhere. “Darling, I see that Stolas has just arrived. Goodness, he seemed to have brought that little toy of his instead of his wife! How scandalous.”

For that moment, Lucifer moved his attention away from Alastor, smiling kindly to his _frau_. “Now, my love, we shouldn’t stick our noses into his business. Let him have his fun. Shall we say our ‘hello’?”

Seeing that this was the end of their little meeting, he moved to his daughter, giving her a kiss on the cheek as he patted her head affectionately, and Charlie preened at this loving fatherly affection. A sight that would have made Alastor glad to see her so happy if it wasn’t for the fact that it was almost unbearable to look at the both of them together now.

And then a hand came to his shoulder in a friendly pat, immediately irking him from being touched but unable to do anything about it. From the corner of his eye, the Big Apple was looking at him with his lips pulled back into that familiar chilling grin, hidden from his wife’s and daughter’s view and given specially to him.

“Relax, my friend,” Lucifer said cheerily, an undertone clearly noted, “Enjoy the party, yes?”

Alastor could only watch as he linked his arm to Lilith’s and walked away. Despite the noise and activity that was going on around him, he felt like he had hit a standstill in time, his mind racing down a trail of spiralling thoughts, unsure of what to think or feel at this moment, amazed yet disturbed that he didn’t know.

”Alastor?”

Charlie’s voice calling his name in concern broke him out of the almost train wreck of his mind as he turned to look at her with unreadable eyes that did not give way to the turmoil inside him.

“I hope you don’t mind Daddy…” she said reassuringly, looking quite fretful. “He’s a little intimidating, is all.”

A ‘little’ was clearly such an extreme understatement.

* * *

Later in the night, everyone in attendance sang the jolly tune of ‘Happy Birthday’ to Lucifer, who stood with his wife and daughter at his sides behind an attractive three-tiered pineapple upside-down cake that was decorated with maraschino cherries and apricots. The Magne family were all bright smiles as Lilith and Charlie kissed his cheeks as he made the first cut to loud jovial cheering.

When the job of cutting up the cake and handing it out was passed to the butlers, the Magnes mingled with their guests, receiving wishes and cheers to good health from well-meaning friends and associates. Charlie only stood aside with a polite smile plastered on her face as her parents conversed, keeping the façade up as photographs were taken and handshakes and hugs were exchanged.

Once it was clear that her presence was no longer needed, she excused herself away from the crowd and headed straight to one of the makeshift bars, finding Alastor sitting alone at one of the stools, _nibbling one_ as he only watched the festivities all around him.

His eyes found hers as she approached, and his smile only tilted up just the slightest. But it wasn’t enough to make her feel better, and Alastor noticed that straight away as she hopped onto the stool beside him.

“Having fun, darling?” he asked politely.

“Yes… But I can’t seem to say the same for you, though…”

“What do you mean?”

”Well, if you haven’t noticed, you’re sitting bored at the bar.”

It was not simply just that which bothered her. It seemed that ever since their little meeting with his parents, he was starting to get distant from her. Conversations would be short and contact would be kept to a minimum or none at all, and even standing by her side, Alastor wouldn’t be holding her gaze for long, as if looking at her was causing him a lot of distress. Of course, she was struck with worry. He’s been quite forlorn ever since she’s introduced him to her father, and although he’s repeatedly assured her that he was fine, she could tell that it wasn’t the case.

Ignore it as she might, it did upset her, but polite as she was to him, she could not dare to press on it, doing so being too forlorn to notice the way he watched her.

Alastor tried to look at her reassuringly in the eyes. He really did. But doing so and suddenly he felt realisation smack him in the face at how much similar she had looked to her father. The same blonde hair, the pale skin, the eyes. How had it not noticed all of it the night he had met the Big Apple and was taken in to be nursed by the doll soon after? No doubt, he felt almost like a fool to realise that one clear warning sign since earlier on. How befuddled must his mind have been to not notice?

The poor doll. She must be worried sick that she must have done something wrong. He would have reassured her, but at this point, he didn’t really feel at ease to even look at her considering that all he saw in her was the face of the Big Apple.

“Oh, sweet apple!”

Both of them turned to see her mother waving to her as she walked in perfect strides to them. Immediately, Alastor looked his best to seem unstrung as he could, giving a polite smile to the lady who took Charlie’s hand in hers excitedly.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet!” Lilith exclaimed to her daughter eagerly. “I think it’ll be a good talk for your hotel!”

Charlie’s eyes widened at the sound of that, and a smile – ah, there was that precious smile once more – lit up her expression. But then she turned to look at him, and immediately the smile faded, almost uncertain to leave him to himself again.

This time though, Alastor forced himself to look her right in the eye and give her a small smile. “Oh, go ahead, dear,” he insisted. “I’ll be fine here.”

Charlie looked like she was about to question him to be sure, but a tug from Lilith and she was instantly pulled off from the barstool and led into the crowd, only able to throw him a look over her shoulder at him before she _drifted_ from his sight.

Alastor only stared at where she was last seen as he took another sip of his drink, sighing as he could only ponder to himself in his lonesome on how complicated things with the doll have gone so quickly.

But he probably should have expected that it wasn’t a good idea to be on his own.

“Mr. Carlon?”

Hearing his name, Alastor turned to find a lone butler standing attentively behind him.

“The master of the house has requested your presence in his private study. If you’d be so kind?”

* * *

“Charlie, this is Sir Pentious.”

The man that her mother had brought her to seemed quite peculiar with a head of long jet-black hair that fell half-way down his back, but he did look like quite the gentleman dressed in a black pinstriped suit.

With an exaggerated bow, he took her hand in his as he greeted, “A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, my lady! Sir Pentious, at your service!”

Clearly British, considering the accent and the terms and mannerisms. “Very nice to meet you,” Charlie replied kindly, returning the gesture with a slight curtsy.

Putting a hand on both of them, Lilith looked between the two with a warm smile. “Now that I’ve got you two acquainted, I should be off. The party simply cannot run without its hostess. Sir Pentious, if you’d be so kind as to accompany my daughter?”

“It would be my honour, madame.”

Sir Pentious offered an arm to Charlie which she took out of his courtesy, and she waved to Lilith who excused herself and walked away.

“You’re clearly not from around here,” Charlie began the conversation kindly, “so what brings you to America?”

“Well, you see, I am actually in company of a student of mine here. He has graciously agreed to bring me along with him to America. It is a first for me here! And I must say, quite different from the King’s country!”

“I see. And what is that you do?”

Sir Pentious’ tone was clearly quite loud and theatrical for a normal conversation, so peculiar as his hair and dressing, as he answered, “I am truly an engineer by trade! An inventor, if you will!”

“An inventor! How exciting. Do tell me more!”

He laughed cheerily, almost eagerly, making a show of clearing his throat as he exclaimed, “Well, prepare yourself, my dear! I shall begin to tell my tale of how I, Sir Pentious…”

* * *

“Come in.”

The familiar voice that called out behind the mahogany doors caused Alastor to hold a bated breath, standing still in anticipation as the butler opened the doors for him.

He wasn’t sure what to have expected when he entered the study, but a crowd was definitely not one of them. Sitting on couches near the fireplace were a trio – two men and one woman, all eccentrically dressed – whose eyes were all on him as he took his first few steps into the room. But his attention wasn’t on them for long when he finally saw the man in white sitting at the impressive desk at the head of the room.

“Ah, Mr. Carlon!” Lucifer greeted with a big grin. “Welcome!”

As he busied with fixing himself a drink from a minibar, The Big Apple gestured to the guests in his rooms. “My associates,” he introduced them to him, “Mr. Vox, Mr. Valentino and Miss Velvet.”

The man in furs raised a glass in greeting as the woman waved vivaciously. But the one in a black suit with blue accents rose from his seat and extended his hand out with a smile. “Nice to meet ya, pal! Vox is the name.”

Smiling politely, Alastor took the hand in a masculine grip and gave it a firm shake. “Alastor Carlon.”

“Carlon? You’re that popular _gee_ on the radio, aren’t ya!” the woman named Velvet, looking at him dazzled eyes and Cheshire smile, noted animatedly. “Wow, you really are a fine fella! Tell me, you taken?”

Alastor was thrown off by her sudden flirtations as she batted her lashes at him, but he decided not to answer considering the way Lucifer eyed him. Best not to make any mention of his date while in the presence of her father.

The other man, Valentino, guffawed out loud. “Velvet, please. He ain’t the first one you’ve been settin’ your sights on for tonight! But if you lookin’ to have an orgy, let me know so I’ll make a _peep show_ for good _greens_.”

Velvet looked horrified at the outrage of her modesty that she smacked her hand on Valentino’s chest. Alastor could only watch in quiet confusion at such weird associates that The Big Apple had, before a snort by Vox drew his attention back to him.

“The radio, huh?” Vox haughtily quipped, all bored. “Can’t say I’m too impressed with the radio nowadays, to be honest. Oh, no. All you do is sit around and listen in to some droning. It ain’t so _darb_! No excitement there!”

Spreading his arms in a flourish with a smile, ge exclaimed excitedly, “But the _talkies_! That’s where it’s at! I’m looking to make it so anyone could watch the pictures from their homes. 

Alastor didn’t take too kindly the insult to his trade. He already had one green-clad buffoon jabbing at the goodness of the radio, he didn’t need another _lug_ doing it too.

“A far-fetched idea, I’ll say,” he replied sceptically. “I’m not sure how exactly you aim to get those big screens into the homes of many when the radio’s more than enough for everyone. Also, I don’t seem to quite get what you mean by ‘droning’, but maybe it shows an incapable extent of an attention span to not be able to keep up with what can entertain the thousands through voice alone?”

Velvet’s gobsmacked expression and Valentino’s stilled stance showed how taken aback they were by his sharpness of delivering a backhanded insult, but none more than Vox, whose eyes were starting to flicker with irritation and mild rage.

“Well, you’re a cocky one, aren’t ya?” he sneered, taking a step closer to be upfront and personal with Alastor. “Bet it won’t be the case if I could get that shit-eating grin to the floor.”

It was like a switch in character for this man, the politeness from a few seconds ago now replaced with an almost maniacal grin on his face that showed his true colour. In the bravado of roughhousing, it did impress Alastor in the slightest. Truly, a smile was a show of power in his books, but that didn’t mean he’d let himself be intimidated by a pea-brained chump that probably thought with his balls instead of his brain. And so, he simply grinning back with teeth bared in sharp glory, indirectly telling him to _go climb up his thumb_.

“That’s enough, Vox,” Lucifer spoke up firmly, having been watching the exchanges in silence over his drink. “Is that how you’d treat guests? Why, I’m quite ashamed.”

The command from the Big Apple immediately made Vox shut his _trap_ , obeying like a dog to its master’s orders. Now that elicited a quiet chuckle from Alastor, thinking how he must be the type to be all hat and no cattle, taking pride in seeing how his lips pulled into a sneer of disdain at his amusement.

But Lucifer seemed not to be in the mood for an unnecessary heated exchange. “I’d like to have a word with Mr. Carlon, so if the three of you wouldn’t mind.”

He merely waved and _gave them the door_ , and the three took it as their cue to leave. Velvet and Valentino left without another word, but Vox lingered for a while longer, giving Alastor a hard eye which was only returned with the same grin, and he looked like he was about to spit in his face before he turned with the swish of a tailcoat to follow the rest out.

But with the clicking of the door closed shut, Alastor finally realised the bigger issue at hand here.

* * *

Sir Pentious really was quite the talker.

He droned on and on all sorts of previous inventions – most which seemed to have ended up failing miserably – that Charlie was barely able to keep up with the boredom that was setting in. She could only begin to wonder why exactly had Lilith decided to set her up with him because she thought it would be ‘good talk for the hotel’.

But for the sake of being polite, she only listened attentively, ever so often nodding in agreement or humming in faux amazement.

Sir Pentious put the back of his hand as though swooning in despair. “But if you may have heard, the economy of Great Britain has been quite lacklustre recently. It’s difficult to get a company up and running amidst the sharp declines of heavy industry and coal. There is no denying that America _is_ the land of opportunities right now, and so with a heavy heart I had to depart my dearest Britain and seek my fortune here.”

“Ah, I see,” Charlie replied, still trying to keep up the enthusiastic pretence. “And what do you have in mind for your first venture here?”

She doesn’t know where exactly he found all this gusto to keep talking, but his tone became exuberant once more as he proudly declared, “Well, I have recently come up with the best gadget to assist in the packaging of eggs!”

Now, that definitely caught Charlie off-guard. “Eggs?” she repeated in confusion. For all that talk of impressive inventions and gizmos, he wanted his first business enterprise to involve eggs?

“I can see that confusion, and allow me to shed some light on the situation,” Sir Pentious said with a confident grin, and he suddenly went into a whole other speech about how the current packaging of eggs only allows for a dozen, and eggs are an important part of everyday nutrition that a dozen simply won’t last, making it a hassle for one to have to purchase several boxes.

“Thus, my latest gadget will give the solution of crafting cardboard to be a holder of, not one, but two dozen eggs!”

Charlie could not really believe the fact that she was sitting here listening to a conversation about eggs, her boredom and confusion hidden by another fake exclamation of, “Why, that sounds quite remarkable! I can only hope that it’s going well for you!”

But all that gusto suddenly went away when he started to look a bit forlorn, clearly thinking of what must be plaguing his brilliant plan.

“Alas, unfortunately, it isn’t so, my dear. You see, we aren’t in the time of age where machines are able to operate on their own sentiency, and thus I would still require manpower to handle the equipment and machinery.”

“And that is a problem… because?”

Sir Pentious gestured to all around them, to no one in particular but to talk in general. “It seems that not many people are interested to work in an egg-packaging factory,” he explained, “and those that do – quote too high a salary! I am only just starting up, so it is not within my capacity to afford employees who need to pay too high of an expense. Oh, no. I need people who would be willing to work for cheap.” 

Taking this all in, Charlie asked in careful confusion, “So, you’re looking for… cheap labour?”

Sir Pentious seemed aghast. “My dear, don’t say it like that! More like I am looking for the most efficient work for the least cost! You’d understand, yes?”

No, she clearly did not understand the eccentric of this man’s strange business plan, wondering how foolish was he to think that such an arrangement could be morally correct for a business owner.

But, foolish or not, Charlie damn well knew an opportunity when she saw one.

* * *

“Have a seat, Mr. Carlon,” Lucifer gestured to the seat opposite his and his desk, and Alastor accepted the invitation willingly.

An intricate silver cigarette casing was taken out from his jacket’s inner pocket, popped open and held out to Alastor, who took one with a nod of thanks. A stick to his own lips and Lucifer took a lighter to graciously alight both their cigarettes.

Alastor took a second to himself to enjoy a much-needed puff as Lucifer circled around the desk back to his armchair. “Are you feeling better?” he asked politely, making himself comfy in his seat.

Exhaling another puff that seemed like a relief to his lungs, Alastor replied, “What gave you the implication that I wasn’t?”

“The look on your _mug_ when you saw mine.”

And just like that, it seemed the smoke did no use to ease him any longer, watching as Lucifer’s face split into a wide grin, laughing softly with a shake of his head. And yet, this was not all that shocking to him, taking a silent breath to himself as he willed his tense body to move, leaning forward to flick the ashes of his cigarette on a nearby ashtray.

“So, we’re dropping the pretence now, I assume?” Alastor questioned blankly, putting the cigarette back to his lips.

“You’re not really someone easy to forget, Mr. Carlon,” Lucifer noted casually with the flicker of his own cigarette ash onto the ashtray. “Or should I just call you ‘Alastor’, now that we’re very familiar with each other?”

“Call me anything you want. Either one’s my name anyway.”

Lucifer only hummed in agreement, and quickly after, a silence ensued. Both men did not talk, just sitting across each other, focus on only their own _gaspers_ within the silence of the study. But while Lucifer was reclining on his chair looking elsewhere, Alastor’s eyes were fixed on him – watching, waiting, anticipating, even though he had no clue what to expect at all.

And that bothered him to no end.

“Come now, no need to be so tense,” Lucifer suddenly broke the silence in a reassured tone. “Did you enjoy the cake, Alastor?”

A strange turn of a conversation, but one Alastor kept up with as she politely shook his head. “Didn’t take a slice, sorry. I’m not a fan of sweets.”

Lucifer looked almost disappointed to hear that. “Oh? What a shame. It’s a lovely cake. Pineapple upside-down. Very fashionable. My wife picked it out.” Taking a drag before exhaling smoke in a puff, he continued almost mellow-like. “Ah, my Lilith. Such a catch, isn’t she? How I do love her so dearly.”

Alastor only nodded along, keeping a polite smile on his face. Any _egg_ would know better than to show much enthusiasm when a man was talking about his wife, so he kept the niceties to a minimum in this strange atmosphere, still simply watching and waiting.

“Do you know who else I love dearly, Alastor?”

And just like that, Alastor immediately feltt his smile dropping just the slightest.

“My daughter.”

Lucifer took a last drag, smoothly blowing smoke out in a smooth stream before butting it out on the ashtray, and that’s when his eyes turned to look at him, narrowed into dangerous slits that seemed reminiscent of a snake ready to pounce.

“Which is why I want to know how exactly did she manage to wind up with you.”

If looks could kill, then Lucifer was intent to do so, withdrawing from under his desk a revolver.

* * *

“So, um… Mr. Pentious-”

“ _Sir_ Pentious, dearie!” He said it in such a way that it seemed as though Charlie had offended him greatly. “I was not knighted by the King himself to be simply called ‘Mister’!”

“Oh, sorry, _Sir_ Pentious,” she backtracked, internally rolling her eyes at the pompous exclamation, but keeping a polite smile as she continued. “Perhaps I could offer a solution to your dilemma of seeking employees for your factories?”

The look of insult immediately shifted to one of genuine curiosity. “Hmm… Go on…”

Seeing his interest, Charlie immediately perked up, straightening her posture with a deep breath as she prepared herself for the pitching that she was quite used to by now.

“Well, you see, I run a rehabilitation hotel for former criminals…”

* * *

The silence in the room could have been quiet enough to hear the way Alastor’s heart dropped right to the floor as he stared at the _bean-shooter_ aimed right at his head.

Even after he felt the last bits of his cigarette turning to ash and falling to the floor, he was too frozen to even move to discard it on the ashtray. In his standstill, his eyes remained on Lucifer, whose glare only seemed more menacing against his grin.

“Well?”

“We’re neighbours.”

It was the truth, so what else could he have said other than that? But judging from the way his eyes widened in slight surprise, the answer clearly wasn’t what Lucifer was expecting. Then again, maybe it’s how he answered so blankly that threw him off. Alastor couldn’t be too sure at which.

“Apologies if it isn’t as exciting as you might think I had more dire intentions,” he apologised for no reason in particular, “but it is as simple as that.”

The revolver unwavering, Lucifer rested his head on his free hand, looking thoughtful. “That’s not really much of an answer.”

“She’s the one who invited me.”

“And there she was, looking so shy and bashful when she wanted me to meet you,” Lucifer said with a hard edge to his voice, as if the words that left his mouth left a disgusting taste on his tongue at the thought of it. “So, is this some sort of sick plan of yours then?”

Without a doubt, Alastor was taken aback by the blatant accusation that was directed at him. “To be completely fair, I had no idea that she was _your_ daughter,” he explained. “I think you yourself could understand that from our very inopportune meeting earlier on.”

Lucifer laughed as if the memory of that meeting was humorous to him, and Alastor couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit peeved that he seemed to be laughing at him. He didn’t appreciate really being taken for a joke, even with a revolver pointed at right between his eyes.

“Well, now you do, so what then?”

“What makes you think I’d want to do anything to Charlie?” he countered back, almost challengingly as though to make a point for himself.

Lucifer may have definitely seen the agitation on his face, looking more bemused as he leaned forward, the revolver inching closer to Alastor’s head, but the radio host he remained calm, not even flinching in the slightest as he continued to observe.

“No need to play coy with me, friend. I’ve seen the stunt you’re able to pull. The way your eyes dilate with the thrill of the kill. Almost seems like you think of it as some fun game!”

Alastor couldn’t help but huff in amusement, his face not denying the truth in the man’s presumptions, which only prompted him to continue with, “So, is that what you’re intending to play with Charlie?”

The room fell into a hushed silence again, as Lucifer waited for his answer and Alastor staring blankly at him.

One would not have felt the spark of irritation that was growing within the man in the red suit. The way Lucifer prompted curiously, pressing him to _spill_ , it admittedly agitated Alastor. He didn’t like having to be _given the third_ this way, especially with the revolver pointed right at his face, as though mocking him into submission. An inkling in him saw this as a sort of cowardice, that he’d have to whip out a _heat_ just to have some show of power to intimidate him in the slightest. How absolutely obnoxious, he’ll say!

And so, vain and cocky in true fashion, Alastor couldn’t help but bite back even in the slightest, confident and without resistance, doing so with a sharp grin.

“If I wanted her dead, she would’ve been long gone before you even met me.”

Now, that definitely seemed like the wrong thing to say.

Alastor watched as the look on Lucifer’s face shifted, turning darker as his eyes narrowed, his grin starting to become a tad bit more tighter, clearly having a chord struck in him, the murderous intent burning more as the seconds passed by quickly.

Well, quite understandable really, considering he just up and dared indirectly said he wanted to _have the curse_ on Charlie.

Yet, the words that followed the expression had no match at all.

“You know, Alastor, you remind me of a deer.”

His darkening aura started to lighten up as he regained his composure, and the sudden change in the conversation only confused Alastor once more. He was probably getting whiplash from the constant turn of events that he had endured for the just the past hour or so, too stupefied to say anything now. No response came, only silence in waiting for the continuation.

“You don’t seem like so, but such a bravado that exists within you. So poised and elegant, like a buck with impressive antlers – an assertion of power and dominance. How you bring yourself so confidently that it seemed like you rule above all, that nothing could bring you down.”

A loud click suddenly resonated in the room, coming from the hammer of the revolver that’s been pushed down and ready for ignition.

And just like that, Alastor was startled, eyes widening as it darted to the tip of the barrel that was still aimed steadfastly in the middle of his forehead, focus only on that instead of the crazed grin on the Big Apple. It probably wasn’t loud, but he could hear the hammering of his heart resonate loudly in his hearing, almost blocking out the next seething words that followed.

“But put a gun right on them and it’s just an act, revealing nothing more than prey.”

And so, the trigger was pulled.

There was suddenly no sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As if things couldn't get any worse for Alastor?!  
> The fool kind of brought it on himself though, don't you think? Oh, Alastor. Why do you have to be so cocky in the face of your biggest adversary at the moment? And is that how you treat your date's father with respect??  
> The Big Apple's got Alastor in his grasp, whether he wants to believe it or not, and Charlie's none the wiser as she's about ready to strike up a good speech for the new potential investor!  
> How else can things go from here, dear readers?
> 
> Well, I hope I've built enough of a crescendo of tension of our darling Alastor and the Big Apple, and it ends with pulled trigger? Oh, my! What have I done to all of you this time! XD  
> This chapter was a killer to right, and to be honest there was a lot of cutting of parts that would have made this chapter almost 10K in length, so I had no choice but to split it with the following chapter! The bad news is now the party arc might drag on for a wee bit, but the good news is Chapter 26 has already been started on and can be expected to be released sooner! Also! I have just finished my final preparations for the school project me and my team have been working on for months, and the day after tomorrow it will finally be over for us! Yesss~ More time for Smiling Man chapters!
> 
> I'd also like to give a big shoutout to Danie (@eve_danie), Freessid (@freessid), Nancy (@Nancyplus100) and Kiarru (@mikkiaru_) for being such sweet darlings and blessing me more gorgeous fanarts! I have said it once and I will say it again - I am crying in happy tears to receive such beautiful works and I am more than happy for your support for me and my stories.
> 
> And that goes out to the rest of you! Thank you for all your kind words and excitement for SM! I am just honestly so motivated by all of you and I cannot express just how much I appreciate everything that you guys have done. Thank you so much!
> 
> 1920s slangs:
> 
> Made – Recognised  
> That’s the bunk – That’s untrue  
> Egg - Man  
> Hooch – Liquor  
> Hooker – A strong drink of liquor  
> Frau – Wife  
> Nibbling one – Having a drink  
> Drifted – Leave  
> Gee – Guy  
> Peep show - an erotic or pornographic film viewed from a coin-operated booth.  
> Greens - Money  
> Darb – Remarkable  
> Talkies – The picture show  
> Lug – Dumb guy  
> Go climb up his thumb - Go stick a thumb up his ass  
> Trap - Mouth  
> Gave them the door – Tell them to leave  
> Gasper – Cigarette  
> Bean-shooter – Gun  
> Spill - Talk  
> Given the third – Interrogated  
> Heat - Gun  
> Have the curse on someone – Wanting to see someone killed


	26. Let's Misbehave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Charlie didn’t understand the sudden drop in her gut, as if something was amiss, looking away to nowhere in particular as if to find the answer.

“Miss Charlotte? Did you hear what I say?”

Then she broke out of her sudden distraction and turned back to Sir Pentious, who was looking at her expectantly. “Sorry, I was a bit fuddled for a moment… Would you care to repeat?”

“Well, I have decided to take up on your offer to view this… ‘rehabilitation hotel’ of yours!”

Their discussion had led to a deal made by Charlie to send ex-convicts to train under Sir Pentious as part of the programme for them to pick up proper work skillsets that could enable them in the workforce, in exchange for sponsorship of the hotel. She had been waiting on him for an answer, half-expecting for a rejection though, but then the sinking of her gut was immediately forgotten as it began to bubble in excitement, her eyes widening and mouth gaping open in shock. “Really?? You would??”

She couldn’t stop herself from the excitement that grew immensely but backtracked into composure upon seeing the way Sir Pentious looked taken aback from her sudden outburst. Clearing her throat, she started off more calmly, “I mean… You would be interested to? Why, that sounds wonderful to have someone as esteemed as yourself to consider!”

The praise she threw in for sugar-coating was well-received by Sir Pentious, who puffed up his chest in pride. “Why, I would say it is an interesting concept by such a _bright young thing_ such as yourself! And it would be good work on my part to help with the community while also shaping perfect che– I mean affordable employees for my new factory!”

While helping him in his strange new business endeavour was not of her importance, it was thrilling to finally have somebody interested in potentially becoming a sponsor for the hotel! It may not be set in stone yet, but things just seem to be falling into place more and more!

Oh, she couldn’t wait to tell Alastor the good news!

* * *

There was no shot fired.

Alastor could only look at the tip of the barrel in a confusion that it stayed as clean as a whistle when it was first drawn. It began to shake though, but only because Lucifer began to chuckle wholeheartedly, eyes crinkling in amusement at what had transpired.

“Yet, I must admit, your bravery is quite admirable!” he remarked in excitement, throwing the gun onto the table with a noisy rattle. “Many squirm and wince and beg for my mercy before my finger even goes to the trigger. And yet, here you are, defiant, undaunted – the true sign of a man hardened by death to not be afraid in the eyes of it!”

The Big Apple remained chuckling, but Alastor paid no heed to him as he now stared at the empty revolver, eyes wide with bewilderment at seeing the accursed thing – now knowing it was not so dangerous – just lying there, thinking of how a mere few seconds ago it had caused him to feel a plethora of objectional emotions, making his heart race and his breath bated and his heart hammering.

Now, his emotions were a bit unclear, but there were a few he could point out.

Astonishment, confusion, relief, and…

 _Fury_.

The only thing that was running through his mind now was how quick would it be to jump over the desk and grab that empty revolver to bludgeon it into that smug and despicable face so many times that the impressive carpet under the desk would be dyed a fresh red. 

“Oh, come now. Why the long face? You’re supposed to be quite the smiling man, right?”

Lucifer had asked that with a politeness that seemed ill-fitting after the stunt that he just pulled, and his eyes were watching him with a challenging glint as if he had read his mind of the murderous thoughts that raced through him and was daring him to even try.

Alastor, as calmly as he could, kept the seething to zilch as he forced a smile. “Thought playing the act of _giving some_ _burn power_ was the right way to scare me about dating your daughter?”

“You had to admit, it worked!” Lucifer exclaimed with a cheerful slap to his knee, and Alastor remained silent, amazed at his own restraint to not bring those murderous thoughts to reality right now. “But no. Charlie’s not much of the concern right now. It’s more your loss than mine if she finds out what you really are.”

Now, that was another surprise Alastor did not anticipate. For all that bravado of threatening him, now he sounded like he didn’t give much damn to his daughter. “I thought you said you loved her dearly,” he pointed out.

Taking another cigarette out to light, Lucifer clarified, “Oh, I do. But she’s a big girl who knows how to handle herself.” A pause to puff out smoke. “Besides! You clearly care for her, considering I could be right to assume that you had something to do with the disappearance of a certain Mr. Reginald Alfonse.”

That bothersome name again. Alastor’s lips pursed in disgust at the flash of memory of that bloody night in the speakeasy restroom. “And how would you know?”

“I am more than well aware of who patrons Rosie’s,” Lucifer explained. “It wasn’t difficult to put the pieces together.

So that’s what he must have been talking about with Rosie on that very fateful night. While he trusted her enough to not breathe a word of him and his ‘activities’, he wasn’t sure if it was a different case if she had been in the presence of the gangster who owned her establishment.

“If I did, so what?” Alastor pressed, on edge on where this was leading to.

“Then I supposed I should thank you for helping my daughter,” Lucifer acknowledged with a flick of his cigarette. “Wanted to see to it myself that he be taken care of, but at least I’m rest assured that someone has taken care of that on mine and Charlie’s behalf.”

Now he sounded so full of gratitude? What more can go on here? Too much for Alastor’s liking, that’s for sure! In fact, he’s about getting tired of this game that he was playing. Irritated, even!

“ _What’s the grift_?” Alastor demanded to know, his smile turning a tad bit strain. “You pull all these tricks and make big talk, but what’s your goal? And what’s it got to do with me?”

Lucifer continued to idly smoke as he thought over his next words. “You’re an interesting man, Alastor. Fearless, ruthless, backasswards. I haven’t seen many like you.”

Just then, his hand slipped into his jacket pocket, pulling out a card that was plated in gold and decorated with nothing else but a single crimson red apple in the middle, putting it flat on the table to be open for display to Alastor.

“Which is why I would like to make the offer for you to join me.”

So, Alastor had been right on his suspicions from the very first night they had met.

“ _You_ want me to be one of your _trouble boys_?” he remarked with furrowed brows. “Don’t you already have _boocoos_ of them? Like those three funny _birds_ from just now?”

A nonchalant shrug. “Well, yes, spanning across the country, but like I said; none as interesting as you.”

Lucifer used the cigarette in hand, pointing the burnt end of it to gesture to Alastor’s entire form. “None with the ability to perform with such brutal yet effortless equilibrium,” he drawled in amazement. “It’s almost like art, the way you take a life. A bare-down on man’s most carnal instincts.”

Such flattery paved way for vanity, one Alastor was full of himself with, almost feeling to pique himself in pride. But that was clouded by the fact that still stood that the Big Apple would want to make use of him, not really helped by how he was feeling quite objectified by how he was eyeing him like sort of treasure to be had.

And still, Alastor held on to the accord from the very first night that it wasn’t something he favoured, that it was almost sickening to think that he would be of service to someone when he valued his own loyalty to himself. That, and he was much too prideful of himself to even consider kowtowing to some smug bastard like him.

And with that rejection of the thought came a laugh as Alastor shook his head gently in stupefaction, with Lucifer only looking with a curious quirk of his brow.

“Unfortunately, I’ll have to decline, my good sir. You see, I already have a job.”

As swift as the rejection had been, Lucifer immediately looked struck dumb, his smile disappearing in a flash, eyes searching Alastor’s face to see if he was probably joking, which he wasn’t.

“Well, this certainly wasn’t what I’d been expecting at all,” he remarked.

Alastor couldn’t resist the haughty smirk that pulled the corner of his lips. “You don’t know me well enough to expect anything,” he stated confidently.

But Lucifer was just as ready to respond in a similar fashion, showing teeth once again in a smart grin “Oh, but I do,” he claimed as matter-of-factly, “just not the more interesting matters.”

“Oh?” A raise of the eyebrow at the curious statement. “So, you’ve been looking into me?”

Lucifer only shrugged in return, as if it was not to be unexpected. And in a way, it truly wasn’t. “Trivial matters, so far,” he explained, before continuing, “Not much of an education – not finishing high school because of the war. Yet well-versed enough to impress the radio station to put you on the waves, and now you're the star radio host of New Orleans at the ripe age of twenty-four, after only about four years in the tenure.”

One wouldn’t have been able to tell the load of shock that was going through the radio host if it weren’t for the best poker face that he could muster. But if one looked carefully, one could see the way his brows were started to knit in concern, how his jaw was slowly starting to clench, and how his smile was threatening to fade as he continued to listen.

“Though, a little bit of digging and it seems quite the coincidence that the strings of New Orleans’ missing cases have been gradually on the rise since you became an orphan at fifteen.” Lucifer gave a thoughtful hum, tapping his chin in deep thought. “The link there is a pretty curious one! I wonder what had been the case?”

A strong twinge of discomfort hit him in the gut as the memory of a past intended to be forgotten was suddenly starting to dig its way out of the darkest recesses of his mind back to the forefront.

How far had the Big Apple gone to know all those little intimate details about him? No one knew that much about himself – not anyone from work, or the speakeasy, or even Charlie herself! He was a man of privacy, unwilling to divulge bits of his life that were of no concern to anyone but himself. But now, here was this mob boss, in an attempt to dig deep into him, gone off for a little bit of ‘research’ to read him like an open history book.

Yet still, he kept his poker face on and his discomfort hidden, as the Big Apple went on.

“Considering you’ve mentioned to me that you’ve had ‘years’ of practice, I must say you are quite the clever one, aren’t you? Managing to evade getting _nailed_ for eight years, probably amassing yourself a very impressive number of _bumps_ , clearly more than enough to shake New Orleans to its core in fear of the mysterious cases that’s been haunting the town.”

Lucifer straightened up in his seat, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table, eyes right at him, studying him. “You cover your tracks well, Alastor. But I’ll say confidence can only get you so far. What if you find yourself in a rut? What then?”

And there he was, acting like an uppish lordly wisenheimer that, in the shortest amount of time he’s known him, got him deep under Alastor’s skin to fuel the rage and fury that came from the absolute insult of being played around like that.

Alastor was by no means a pushover who’d be willing to let anyone walk or talk over him like so, and the man had better be glad that he at least had the decency to still hold an inkling of respect to his status as both a notorious underworld boss _and_ Charlie’s father to not put him in his place like he would many others.

But unable to act on the itch to smite, he could only do what was a second-best option; to smile, and answer back as cocksure as he possibly could, “As you said yourself - I must be quite the clever one!”

And the grin only grew wider as he added, all smart-assed, “And I do intend to keep it that way, so I’d respectfully ask that you _don’t gum every play I make_.”

Alastor thought – half-expected even – for the smile to be wiped off his face again at his non-compliance, and he could only wait in anticipation at what could ensue. What could happen, he did not know, but there was no way in hell he was going to let himself be taken by surprise yet again.

However, after, Lucifer merely pondered on what he had just said, eyes deep in thought, before he hummed nonchalantly and shrugged his shoulders.

“Ah, well. It would do no good for me to push my chances here.”

Alastor was definitely expecting the unexpected, but he wasn’t prepared for the coolness in the Big Apple’s response.

“There’s no fun in doing it by force,” Lucifer mulled over the fact, playing with the now put-out butt between his fingers. “Oh no, it would be much more interesting for you to come to me on your own accord.”

Clearly this want stemmed from a play of ego, one that Alastor thought that two could play at the game. “I think I’ve made it very clear that I’m not interested to be your _hatchet man_.”

Alastor was sure that what he said was not a joke, but yet it made Lucifer chuckle as though it was the most ridiculous thing. The same notion, Alastor only kept quiet, watching him and waiting for him to calm himself to hear the reasoning behind it.

“Do you remember what I told you that night?”

No response, and Lucifer chimed in instantly, refreshing his memory, “All desperate fools will take whatever they can get when Lady Luck’s not on their side.”

The omniety behind that statement was unmistakably, but there was no question of it as Lucifer continued on as casually, “Besides, I’m not one to burn bridges too early. So, just so you know, the offer still stands.”

To add depth to that promise, his fingers went back to the card that was still on the table, sliding it across towards Alastor, who only stared at it blankly - pointedly ignoring the empty revolver nearby it - as Lucifer smiled a smile that would be polite if it weren’t for the sinister undertone behind it.

“For whenever you would need help.”

Alastor would doubt it, considering he nearly made the mistake that he could call on him to take care of Charlie, his _own_ daughter. That was too much of a close call for his own liking, one he would be sure not to repeat.

But against his better judgement, his hand came forward and placed itself on the card, and at that moment, he hesitated, thinking of all the implications that came with taking it. The possibilities hung heavy in the air, and Alastor was almost uncertain at what could happen from here on out.

And yet, curiosity started to itch at him, wondering how far could he push his luck with this particular situation he had found himself in. Without a doubt, there was no way in hell he would want anything hanging over his head, but the urge to play the game, to walk on such thin ice, drove that maddening temptation to play the game, to take his chances, to turn it in his favour.

So, he took the card, keeping it in his jacket pocket and patting it as a show of keeping it safe. This pleased Lucifer somewhat, smiling as he gestured to the door.

“Do enjoy the rest of the party, and at least have some of the cake. They are delicious, I tell you.”

Alastor ignored the last part, just more than happy to take his leave, standing up and straightening his suit before making his way to the door, making sure his strides were paced to not look like he was in a rush.

But just as he crossed the threshold, he was suddenly stopped in his tracks when Lucifer asked, “And I hope I’ll be rest assured that Charlie makes it home safely tonight?”

The mention of her name caused realisation that it's been quite some time since he had been gone. And now that there was no feeling of discontent - irritation maybe, but not discontent - of her unexpected father, he didn't feel all that uncomfortable to return to her presence, finding it more pleasing than to spend another second in this room.

But, Big Apple or not, this was still her father, and he was her date, and he’d be damned if he didn’t at least remember his manners.

With a nod and a smile, Alastor replied, “You have my word, sir.”

There was still doubt clear in Lucifer, an uncertainty to trust the word of this dangerous man, but he’ll know what to do if his request wasn’t met, in return _jerking a nod_.

“Good boy.”

* * *

Charlie couldn’t find Alastor anywhere.

He wasn’t at the bar when she got back, and neither was he near the dance floor or the live band. For a split second, she fretted that he might have left, but a quick check with Razzle and Dazzle confirmed that he wasn’t seen to have departed, and so she continued searching high and low for a passing of the red of his suit or his handsome face adorned by a single monocle. But he just wasn’t anywhere to be found.

 _Where is he?_ She thought to herself in a worry, now simply standing in a somewhat secluded corner with a drink in hand, trying to quell her nerves as she watched the performance that was currently going on.

Lilith was up on stage with the band, singing along to a smooth jazz tune. Her mother had been a singer in the past, with a voice like a siren calling the attention of many on her to be enchanted. Charlie had heard that it was how her father had fallen for her, and she, in turn, grew to love her mother’s singing, from the night-time lullabies she had listened to as a child to the solos during such parties like these, so listening to her now at least lightened the mood, with the help of a bit of liquor.

“Aww, what’s the matter, dear? You’re looking like such a poor little wallflower!”

Well, now how that voice immediately soured her mood even more, turning to see Helsa looking at her with a sneer of contempt.

“I’d take being a wallflower over talking to you anytime,” Charlie answered with a frown.

“Oh, a little snappy there, aren’t you? Careful, darling! It sure isn’t a pretty look on you!”

She wasn’t sure if it was because she couldn’t find Alastor or having to listen to Sir Pentious droning or the alcohol, but Charlie was for certain not in the mood to deal with this. “Look, what is it exactly that you want?” she questioned irately. “I’m not particularly keen on listening to your _chinning_ tonight.”

Seeing that she was getting under Charlie’s skin only made Helsa’s nasty grin grow wider, giggling irritatingly, “My, my! Aren’t you being a shrew? How cute to see the little kitten showing her claws!”

Again, Charlie wasn’t particularly feeling the mood to hold back and deal with this sort of talk, and it’s probably with the liquid courage that she said, “More like I’ve grown horns to go _loggerheads_ to deal with _nudniks_ like you.”

That seemed to jolt Helsa like electric, for suddenly the puffed-up look of hers was gone with a flash as her eyes began to look sharp with the first buildings of nettling.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Charlie replied easily, unresisting to a smirk. “Or was that too direct for you?”

Affronted at her directness, Helsa clenched her teeth, which were grinding so hard it could actually make an irritable noise that worsened her screechy voice. “Let me explain something to you, ‘Princess’. Not sure if you’re aware but you’re pretty much a joke around these parts. The only reason you’re still treated nice is just ‘cause you’re a Magne.”

She was now standing so close that her _pan_ was all up in Charlie’s as she seethed cruelly, “But don’t forget you’re nothing more than a _flat tire_ with those dim-witted ideas of yours.”

If at any given moment, that certainly would have hurt Charlie, who was admittedly still quite sensitive about being treated like an embarrassment for her ideals, something that she hadn’t particularly wanted to face on this very night where she was forced to be among those who laughed at her.

But really, at this moment, just tell her something she didn’t already know.

So, with one final sip of her drink, she would only give a narrow of her eyes and another confident smirk as she simply said, “I think I’ll take a chance, _sweetie_.”

Helsa was definitely not ready to back down, already taking another breath to continue her tirade, but then a hand on her shoulder immediately stopped her, and she turned to see Seviathan looking down with the most disapproving glare.

“That’s quite enough out of you, Helsa,” he reprimanded.

“What’s it to you?” she snapped, shaking off his hand all unhappy at being scolded. “It isn’t your business.”

“It is my business if you’re going all around acting like a hooligan. Really, your behaviour is absolutely atrocious.”

The anger in her face only grew tenfold, lips pulled back to bare teeth. “You really want to know what’s ‘atrocious’, dear brother? That you’d still want to play nice to someone like _her_.”

The ‘her’ was said with a point of a finger to Charlie, who only stood away in silent frustration.

Seviathan didn’t take lightly to his sister’s outburst. “What’s between me and Charlotte is none of your concern, Helsa.” He stepped around so that he was standing in front of Charlie, as if to protect her, and demanded with simple affirmation, “Now, if you wouldn’t mind as to leave?”

Helsa looked like she was about to bite back once more, unwilling to drop the topic, but upon seeing the way her brother’s eyes narrowed dangerously at her in warning, she didn’t, only making a loud ‘tch’ of disgust as she turned and walked away with a huff, leaving the both of them alone once more tonight, much to her chagrin.

Seviathan turned to her, sighing shamefully, “Once again, I’ll have to apologise for my sister, Charlotte. You know her and her tempers.”

“Oh, forget about it,” Charlie grumbled, looking away as she placed her empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray. “It’s always something with you Von Eldrich siblings, isn’t it?”

Vexation fuelled her to want to leave the scene immediately, which she had been prompt in taking a step away until his hand shot out to grab hers, gentle though firm.

“Excuse me?” she exclaimed, frustration only growing at this unwanted touch.

“I was hoping to request a dance?”

“Um… No,” Charlie was quick to reply, gut wrenching at the request. “I was looking for Alastor.”

But Seviathan did not seem deterred. “Oh, come on. I don’t see him around and it wouldn’t do to leave a lady without a companion. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Charlie truly wasn’t all that convinced, ready to pull away more forcefully until he leaned in to say cautiously, “Besides, I’m afraid that we’ve already caused quite a scene…”

She wasn’t aware that she was being watched until a quick glance and she saw some eyes were on her, whispering amongst themselves about what they had witnessed. In an instant, she was burning in embarrassment, damning her luck to be putting her in such an unwanted situation, feeling herself shrink under the weight of the gazes.

“Just one dance, Charlotte. Please.”

Her eyes darted to her mother on stage, who definitely saw the exchange and was watching her with an expectant look as she continued. With her eyes, she was telling her to be mindful of him, probably stemming from the fact that the Von Eldriches were still family friends, and thus were to be treated with respect, as according to Lilith when she had first broken up with Seviathan.

For the sake of her parents, she would obey that one condition, and thus sighing in defeat, Charlie half-heartedly placed a hand in his, ignoring his smile as he led her to the dance floor.

They have danced before, too many times that it has almost become muscle memory with the way they held each other so naturally. But this didn’t invoke a sense of nostalgia within Charlie. If anything, she felt so unease, wondering why in hell would she accept to dance with him, looking anywhere else but him and casually trying to ignore the way he was looking at her.

“So, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’re actually working on that hotel of yours.”

Well, now she couldn’t ignore him.

“How did you know about that?” Charlie asked, genuinely curious.

“You’ve set up a meeting with my teacher as a potential investor.”

She recalled from her conversation with Sir Pentious that he had mentioned he had arrived in America in companionship with a student of his. But just how bad must her luck be to turn out that said student was none other than Seviathan?

“And what exactly did you hear?” she inquired, trying not to look like she was much too concerned about it.

His answer came with a nonchalant shrug. “Oh, what anyone else had said last time.”

Charlie need not press to know what he meant by the last bit, being unpleasantly reminded again of Helsa’s bitchy remarks. But Seviathan did not divulge on that, instead asking, “I would assume it’s going well?”

At that, she smiled her widest, eyes self-satisfied as she replied, “Why, yes. In fact, I actually have my first patron, and I’m expecting a couple more in the coming months.”

Seeing the way Seviathan's eyes widened in surprise brought a bit of pride to Charlie, glad that she had something to prove herself and the hotel for what it’s worth. Immediately, she felt a swell in her that told her that yes, it was probably going well, and she believed in that.

“My, I certainly didn’t expect that.”

The flatness in his response stalled the swell that was building. “Oh?” she said with a raise of her brow. “Then what did you expect, Seviathan? Another failure in my books?”

“Can’t say I didn’t think that at least.”

In place of the pride that grew was ire once more, which wasn’t helped as Seviathan continued on, “I mean, you’ll have to admit, your… attempts haven’t been all that successful. Anyone within the circle knows about that. I would assume you would have been a bit more mindful.”

The Von Eldrich siblings were two sides of the same coin; while Seviathan may conduct himself in more courteous eloquence than his sister, he was undoubtedly the same sort of highfalutin scumbag that Charlie disliked.

To hear him just rub it in her face like that, it was just infuriating her to no end.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Other than deliver a backhanded insult, no.”

The sarcasm was clear in her voice for Seviathan to start looking somewhat sheepish. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I do wish you all the best with that.”

The well-wishing would have been much appreciated, but alas Charlie knew that it wasn’t really dripping with sincerity that came with a standoffish man such as himself, and she’s decidedly had enough of wasting her time with any more _jive_.

But before she could do anything, a single finger tapped on Seviathan's shoulder, and both turned – much to Charlie’s immense relief and happiness – to see Alastor, grin already in place as he looked at Seviathan with a pair of narrowed eyes. 

“I haven’t yet had the pleasure of dancing with my lovely companion for tonight. So, Mr. Von Eldrich, if you won’t mind!”

Before a word of protest could be said, Charlie’s hands were already free of him as she allowed herself to be pulled away with Alastor to the further regions of the dance floor, not paying any heed to Seviathan's insulted look or any words coming out of his mouth as the music drowned him out.

Meanwhile, Alastor was internally fighting back the urge to cause some form of mild harm to the boy, his mood souring at the thought that he didn’t just have to deal with _bushwa_ with the doll’s father only to find her _weasel_ of an ex-boyfriend having the pleasure to dance with her. As if he didn’t feel incensed enough for one night!

Once they were sure away from said _weasel_ , it was with a swiftness that Alastor took Charlie by the waist and hand, leading her into a slow dance befitting to the music. In the silence, Charlie could only watch the way he looked at her, realising that he was now actually properly looking at her, his eyes not moving away or hesitant as it had been earlier on, a smile given.

She was happy, but at the same time confused at what had prompted a sudden change in him again.

“Where were you?”

He seemed to have expected that question, for he answered smoothly, “Went to take a smoke. Just giving myself a little breather from this shindig going around here.”

“I see…” she replied, giving a little smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Of course, she must have been worried about him, as he had suspected. He almost felt bad. Strange, considering how Charlie had turned out to be a more complicated game than he could ever anticipate, it was supposedly still quite uncertain for him towards her. But he tried hard not to focus on that at the moment. The doll wasn’t smiling, and he was partially to blame, so he should make up for it.

But all he could offer now was a reassuring smile, telling her comfortingly, “Don’t worry, my dear. I’m alright.”

Before Charlie could even give a response, there was suddenly a loud change to the music, having transitioned from the smooth jazz that her mother was singing to a more upbeat tune that suddenly, all around them, the other dancers started shifting as their moves became the famous Charleston.

And it was like a switch had been flipped within Alastor. Upon hearing the lively jazz number, his eyes widened in excitement, his grin stretching further as he exclaimed aloud, “Now THIS is what I can dance to!”

Soon, he followed suit of the other dancers, letting her go so that he was free to kick his legs and swing his arms with such vigour that Charlie could only look in awe, amazed by the sudden change of his energy, and also taken aback at seeing him dancing, a completely new side to him that she was experiencing.

She couldn’t watch for long though, because almost immediately, Alastor reached out and took her hand in his, bright eyes encouraging her to join in. The infectious smile was what made her sold, and she threw inhibitions to the air as she followed his lead and danced.

In time with the beat of the music, their limbs and legs swung in synchronisation, with Charlie's skirts flying and the tailcoat of Alastor's suit flapping ceremoniously in the wind. He twisted and turned and twirled her, and with each move, Charlie felt all the unease from the past hour start to melt away. In that moment, gone were the thoughts of that awkward meeting with her parents and the horrible encounters with Seviathan and Helsa, as a high filled her that was fuelled by the bright smile on her handsome partner's face, no doubt that this was probably the happiest she felt the entire night.

The same was for Alastor, who found the music and dancing a relief from the unnecessary stress that he had to endure. It's been a while since he had a good dance, and Charlie was a _swell_ partner who knew how to use her _gams_ , her jubilant energy rubbing off on him so much that he felt taken once more but how lively the doll was, so much more comforting for him to be able to face her like this again.

When the music came to an extravagant close with the dancers striking final poses, a loud round of applause was given to the band, the entire dance floor laughing and cheering with the high. Alastor and Charlie were none too different, all smiles and laughs. The exuberance of energy made them into hot messes, but no damn was given as both had no thought but the sheer jubilance that came with the dance of the Charleston. To hell with looking prim and proper when it was just all so fun!

But in their breathless state, both subconsciously leaned into each other, as if to support each other from the mild exhaustion that was starting to set in. It escaped their notice at first, too busy catching their breaths, but it was only a few seconds later that Charlie realised what was going on, immediately looking up to see that Alastor had realised it as well and was already looking at her.

They have never been this close before, their sides touching so much that they could feel the heat radiating off each other. This sort of physical contact was almost too close too suddenly.

In her shyness, Charlie turned away, fighting the smile that was starting to appear, and this did not escape Alastor’s notice, whose smile turned up in amusement.

But then, someone caught her eyes, and immediately her embarrassment took a more dire turn.

“Oh, my… Daddy’s watching.”

Immediately hearing that, Alastor turned in the direction that she was looking at to find that her father was indeed watching them with a blank stare from the distance he stood. But his eyes were clearly not on her, but on him, and Alastor could read almost a hundred mental messages flashing through those slits.

But this look did not scare him. Oh, no. If anything, it only amused him. Show it to Big Apple that he wasn’t afraid even after what had gone down in his study. He almost wanted to guffaw out loud!

And as he held the gaze of the Big Apple defiantly, he was starting to feel an itch growing inside him. Without a doubt, an itch to get a little bit cocky with the situation.

Maybe think of it as payback, if one would.

“Hey, Charlie?”

Hearing her name, Charlie looked up to see him eyeing her with a particularly mischievous smile.

“… Yes, Alastor?...”

His smile turned into a big grin with what he said next.

“Let’s misbehave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said it once and I'll say it again - Alastor is too much of a cocky bastard for his own good!
> 
> So yes, I lied on Twitter. Alastor isn't dead but he sure as hell is about digging his own grave deciding to take this up as if it was some sort of game! What are you doing, my good cocky sir? Just how composed is Lucifer to be able to deal with that sort of bushwa? Ah, well, it seems only time will tell! But at least we have the chapter ended off with Charlie and Alastor getting their gams kicking to a Charleston! And what more mischief could ensue with Alastor's sudden idea?
> 
> I've been fuelled by pure adrenaline and wheezing, one of which was all thanks to Spud's (@galacticspud) 'scandalous' fanart of Alastor in his underwear! God, did that union suit look so ravishing on him! XD And did I mention that she even drew out the infamous restroom scene?! ABSOLUTELY REMARKABLE YOU DARLING!
> 
> I'm so glad that all of you were excited since the previous chapter, but let me tell ya that the dish is gonna be really attractive come next chapter! I'm so excited!!! Are you? Just where is our lovely duo going to end up next?
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Bright young thing – Socialite  
> Giving some burn power – Fire a gun  
> What’s the grift? – What are you trying to pull?  
> Trouble boys – Gangsters  
> Boocoos – Lots of  
> Birds – Interesting characters  
> Nailed – Getting caught by the police  
> Bumps – Kills  
> Don’t gum every play I make – Don’t interfere with my plans  
> Hatchet Man – Hired killer  
> Jerking a nod - Nodding  
> Chinning – Talking  
> Nudniks – An irritating person  
> Pan - Face  
> Flat tire – Stupid girl  
> Sweetie – A term for someone a girl doesn’t like  
> Jive – Unpleasant talk  
> Bushwa - Bullshit  
> Weasel – A sleaze who tries to take another’s girl  
> Swell – Good  
> Gams - Legs
> 
> Edit (10/4/2020): The name of Charlie's ex-boyfriend has been changed from 'Harold' to 'Seviathian' after Faustisse's stream confirming this!


	27. Pretty Face, Electric Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt
> 
> 'Young and Beautiful' is by Lana Del Rey, with the cover version by Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox

Lucifer and Lilith were clearly saddened to hear that Charlie was departing for the night, filled with parental concern when she stated that she was exhausted and probably had drunk a tad bit too much, so would like to turn in for the night.

Alastor stood by her side, bidding his farewells and giving assurance that he would see to it that she made it home safe and sound – that said with a look to Lucifer, who said nothing.

And so, with a hug and a kiss exchanged with both her parents and a final wish of ‘Happy Birthday’ to her father, the both of them waved goodbye and departed from the manor.

“A lovely young man, isn’t he, darling?” Lilith asked her husband with a smile.

Lucifer could only purse his lips in doubt, and Lilith chuckled with a roll of her eyes. “Oh, darling. It’s so cute how you’re being overprotective over our little girl.”

If only his wife knew the reason for being so.

But for now, he would keep mum. He wasn’t all too pleased with the arrogance that her daughter’s companion had portrayed, but Lucifer had decided to wait it out, genuinely interested to see how this interesting scenario would play.

* * *

“When you said ‘misbehave’, I didn’t really think you meant this.”

“Surprised, Charlie dear?”

Of course, she was. Alastor’s strange but tempting words had brought the promise of thrills that pushed to misbehaviour on her part to lie to her parents so that they could _blow_ the dreadful party for the whims of real fun.

But she couldn’t really see what was fun about going to some emporium in the middle of the night.

“Don’t look too disappointed just yet!” he reassured, leading her to the door. “I’m taking you to New Orleans’ best-kept secret.”

When the bell jingled, Rosie looked up and immediately a smile came to her upon seeing her favourite patron. But that smile quickly faded when she realised that he wasn’t alone, that there was a petite little blonde following behind him so closely.

“Alastor,” she said his name with the surprise kept to a minimum, skirting around the counter to him as he was all composed smiles and greeting cheerfully. “Rosie, dear! Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

As per the norm, he took her hand for a soft peck to her knuckles, but Rosie’s attention was only fixed on the blonde he had brought with him, who he immediately turned to when he straightened up.

“Rosie, I’d like to introduce you to Charlie!”

At her introduction, Charlie stepped forward shyly, bowing her head in greeting. “Hello, ma’am. Very nice to meet you!”

My, the girl sounded as sweet as a buttercup! Rosie couldn’t help but think of her as quite the adorable little thing, “Very nice to meet you as well, dearie,” she replied just as kindly.

But niceties aside, still it did not quell how _balled up_ it was Alastor had actually brought a girl with him. He’s never done something like that before, and it was just so odd!

“I hope tonight’s not that packed, dear,” he said smoothly, making his way to the bookshelf. Charlie lingered behind, not sure of what to make of this, looking around the store at the curious knick-knacks arranged all around.

Giving a cautious side-eye to the unexpected guest, Rosie asked Alastor in a hushed whisper, “Alastor, how can I be sure…”

Alastor had been prepared for the question, understanding the sensitivity of bringing an unknown face to her joint. She had strict rules about it that he knew he had to abide, and honestly, it was an impulse on his part to bring Charlie to one of the establishments that her father secretly owned.

But he supposed it could count for another strike of payback. Since the Big Apple’s probably got eyes everywhere, why not make a show of just how much he gave a damn about him by bringing his daughter to one of his owned establishments?

Besides, he felt the need to _dip the bill_ in a less-stressful setting.

“Don’t worry, dear. She won’t say a word.”

That may be his statement, but Rosie would need to hear it from the girl herself, and thus turned to Charlie, asking politely, “Can you keep a secret, dearie?”

Charlie was confused at the sudden question, but seeing Alastor nodding in reassurance, she answered, “Yes?”

It didn’t really sound all that convincing, but she looked so sweet and naïve that Rosie thought that she was probably as harmless as a dove. And with Alastor’s grin just full of certainty, she supposed she should just take what she could get.

Giving one more glance to the girl, she made to push away a few books, clearing a particular space to knock on the bare wood. When the bookshelf slowly swung open, there was a loud surprised gasp from Charlie, her eyes widening at the unexpected display. Rosie thought this to be adorable, likening her look to a child that was amazed at a magic trick, and gestured for her to go ahead inside.

It was Alastor that brought her out of her little stupor, taking her by the hand through the threshold of the secret door and down the steps, and Rosie made quick to lock the doors of the emporium before following in their trail, intrigued at this curious happenstance.

As he led her steps, she beheld the sight all around her. She knew that such things existed, but never in her wildest dreams would Charlie ever expect to find herself in an actual speakeasy. And it was such a different world away from the quaint and cosy emporium above, looking like The Ritz in remarkable and dazzling splendour, quite alive with a band that was performing a lively ragtime number and many guests indulging in _tipping a few_.

Mirroring the words that she had said to him earlier in the evening, Alastor told her with a wink and finger to his lips, “Don’t tell anyone that the liquor here’s bootlegged!”

Charlie caught on and giggled, imitating his earlier response with a finger to her lips.

Weaving through the crowd together, she found herself being led to a bar, where there was an impressive collection of various liquors up on display on the shelves. But that wasn’t her focus for long when she realised a familiar face at the bar.

“Oh! You’re-”

Husk had been in the middle _scofflawing_ from a bottle when he heard her voice, and he nearly sputtered on his drink when he saw her. “Um.. Hi?” he greeted awkwardly, consumed by confusion about what the hell was she doing here until he saw Alastor’s insolent smile, and immediately came a dreadful drop in his gut.

“You work here?” Charlie asked with bright-eyed curiosity.

“Um…”

The uncertainty was interrupted with a loud cheery voice greeting, “Mister Al!” All four turned in the direction of another familiar face joining the scene, and Niffty was about her skipping her way towards them when she suddenly realised their unexpected guest.

“Oh! Hiya, Charlie!”

“Nifty!” Charlie smiled upon recognising the tiny redhead. “You’re here too?”

“Yup! And so is Husk! Welcome to Rosie’s!”

She was suddenly swept up into a conversation by the excitable chatterbox, and it was with ease that Alastor felt to see her starting to get comfortable with his friends here in the speakeasy. Perhaps it really wasn’t such a bad idea to have brought her to Rosie’s.

“Alastor.”

 _Ah, well. Probably spoke too soon…_ he thought with slight dismay, turning around to see Mimzy standing right behind him.

“Mimzy, dear,” he greeted with a usual friendliness. “You’re looking lovely tonight.”

And yes, she did look quite lovely all _togged to the bricks_ befitting for an attractive flapper like herself. Unfortunately, the loveliness wasn’t extended to her _button_ , looking like a green-eyed monster as she was staring at Charlie with eyes so fiery that it could probably burn a hole in her back.

Mimzy pointedly ignored his greeting, gesturing with a tip of her chin in Charlie’s direction. “Who’s that?” she asked, voice as hard as steel, which quite irritated Alastor at this indirect display of rudeness.

Without hesitation, he reached out to Charlie, who turned away from her conversation with the two to see her. “Charlie, I’d like you to meet Mimzy,” he introduced, his expression masked with his ever-present smile. “Mimzy, Charlie.”

Polite as ever, Charlie greeted sweetly with a smile, “It’s really nice to meet you!”

But Mimzy did not look as sweet in return, her eyes doing a once-over on Charlie, and she simply gave an upward tilt of her head, nose high up in the air with a sort of attitude as she replied, “So, you’re the girl that Alastor’s seeing?”

Both Alastor and Charlie visibly stilled at the sudden remark, a blush spreading on her cheeks and an irritation flooding his eyes. But Mimzy did not falter from their reactions, her stare still locked on Charlie, waiting on an answer.

“Um… Yes?” Charlie answered with a squeak, feeling like she had been pushed to a corner, which was not helped by the fact that all of Alastor's friends were looking at her.

"My, how surprising," Mimzy replied, unimpressed. “I would never have expected.”

The tension and awkwardness in the air was so palpable that it was making everybody uncomfortable, especially when a quick glance to Alastor's face let everyone know that he was about ready to jump in and cut off any venomous snark that might come out of her mouth. He may be standing still and calm now, but with Mimy’s known stubbornness of pushing at people’s buttons, it would probably only be a matter of time before he would snap.

So with a calm grace, Rosie cleared her throat and exclaimed, “Mimzy, darling, you’re needed back on the stage!”

Mimzy wanted to outright refuse. No way did she want to have Alastor be alone with this girl. It was simply infuriating to her. However, it was probably not as infuriating as the way Alastor stared down at her with an unhidden disapproval, the hard look in his eyes almost demanding that she complied, unnerving her enough that eventually she swallowed the angry lump in her throat down and headed back to the stage, where the band was just starting up a new song.

Glad to have the unnecessary tension away, Alastor was all bright smiles again as he exclaimed to Charlie, “Well! Now that we’ve got you quite settled, what’s say we have another drink? What would you like, doll?"

Charlie was flustered from the moment as she said, "Um… A Boulevardier, please."

Alastor gestured for her to take a seat on a barstool, but was immediately interrupted by a disapproving tutting. “Now, Alastor! A bar stool is simply not appropriate for your guest!” Rosie reprimanded with a shake of her head. “Please, have one of the finest tables in the house. I insist!”

She gestured for Niffty to lead the way, and the flapper obediently took Charlie’s hand to bring her to a table, leaving Alastor behind to settle the drinks.

But once left alone, he was immediately confronted with an irate, “Are you shitting me?”

“Language, Husker! Manners!”

But Husk paid no mind to the proprietress’ scolding, looking like he was about to lose it with the way he was staring at Alastor in wild bewilderment, amusing the man who faux innocently pondered, “Hmm… No, I don’t think so!”

“What the **fuck** did I tell you about this? Now you’re bringing her here too?”

Husk was just not having any of his bullshit at the moment, but Alastor only rolled his eyes with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Oh, Husker, be a _lalapazaza_! What’s the harm of bringing my lovely date here for a night out?”

With a point of his finger that nearly jabbed into his chest, causing the narrowing of Alastor’s eyes, Husk barked, “The ‘harm’ is you peacocking yourself off around her, and with whatever the **fuck** sort of sick plan you got in that _conk_ of yours, you might be dragging ALL OF US down the shitter. ”

“Crass language aside, I’ll have to agree with Husk…” Rosie interjected, worried. “Alastor, this is quite unlike you. Do you really think that you won’t have any trouble with that girl?”

Oh, if only they knew how they were unknowingly speaking the truth. Alastor was almost tempted to tell them what he had learnt earlier in the evening. Now that would definitely knock them off their socks! He could only imagine that Rosie might be giving him a proper nagging and Husk might want to wring his neck.

But alas, no doubt he wouldn’t pay any heed to them. It was in his own resolve that he had set himself for the game way before even knowing Charlie’s parentage, and it would not do to throw in the towel. It’ll be an act of cowardice on his part, and the thought of the Big Apple’s smug grin just hit him with that twinge of disgust. This was his business, his choice to take up on the challenge, and he would damn well see to it that he pulled through.

So he replied to the conundrum with a confident, “ _Ish kabibble_ , my friends! Rest your pretty heads that I’ll have this all under control!”

Only a hard stink eye was given by the bartender, which Alastor reciprocated with his usual smile.

Rosie sighed, having had enough of any more silly childish behaviour from her associates. “Alright, that’s quite enough from you boys. Alastor, go ahead and join your friend. I’ll have Niffty bring your drinks over.”

She shooed him away, and he obliged and took his leave, heading over to the table that he and Charlie had been given, quite a good spot from the stage. She was just sitting quietly, watching Mimzy belting out notes, turning only when he took a seat beside her.

“So, you’ve been talking to them about me?”

“Mimzy ought to keep her mouth shut,” Alastor chuckled, the annoyance that was held back unnoticed by Charlie, who was more focused on her question.

“So… what did you tell them?”

His answer was easy and swift. “That I’m seeing and spending time with a particularly lovely dame.”

It wasn’t much of an answer, but it was enough to get Charlie all blushing at the thought that he considered her ‘lovely’. She tried to hide the redness of her cheeks as best as she could just as Niffty brought over their drinks, setting it down before leaving swiftly.

“Problem, doll?”

“No. It’s just... I wouldn't think you would talk about me."

“And why wouldn’t I?” he asked inquisitively.

“Because you’re so private and all. There’s a lot of things I still don’t really know about you.” With a wave of her hand, she gestured to their surroundings. “Like this place! I never would have thought you would be one to come to a joint like this.”

“Well, darling, in all irony, it’s tough to speak easy about a speakeasy. This is a source of income for my friends, and I wouldn’t risk their way of putting bread on the table.”

Charlie nodded once in understanding. “That’s really nice of you… And it’s nice that you would trust me enough to take me here. I’m pretty sure your friends aren’t all _ducky_ of me being here, but I’d promise I won’t say anything.”

 _Oh, but that’s not really what they’re so concerned about._ “Of course! For sure, I can trust you.”

He probably wasn’t aware of how that statement made her feel warm inside, feeling so nice to be trusted, and her smile grew as he picked up his Gin Rickey and held it in the air for a toast. “So, darling, to trust?”

Picking up her Boulevardier, she gently tapped it to his. “To trust.”

Time passed by with the joys of music and drinks as they conversed wholeheartedly, enjoying each other’s presence as they had many times before. It was probably the first time in this seemingly long night that Alastor felt truly relaxed, having shaken off all the tension that came with the party they had so thankfully _bloused_ , and feeling in tune to where he could at least grasp control of a situation on his own terms.

It was simple, but to have the daughter of the Big Apple here with him, unknowingly enjoying herself in one of her father’s establishments where he probably had eyes to see the both of them, he would take it something like a rude finger gesture to the man.

But after a while passed, a _whangdoodle_ had just ended, and Mimzy gave a confident bow to the applauding audience before strutting off the stage, basking in the adoring attentions given to her. And it was in that prideful stride that she made her way to their table, breaking their little peace.

“Mind if I?” she asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside Charlie’s.

Her sudden presence was much to Alastor’s chagrin, but before he could say anything, Charlie beat him to the chase. “Oh, of course! Please join us!”

And so Mimzy took a seat, just as waiter came with a serving tray of a martini and a cigarette in a bakelite holder. As she took a _fag_ , she was very much aware of how Alastor was pointedly ignoring her now, looking elsewhere but her, which only added to the dismay she’d been feeling from just now.

But Charlie was unaware of the one-sided exchange. “You were absolutely wonderful!” she exclaimed gleefully. “Your performance was top-notch!”

Mimzy wasn’t all too interested to talk to her, but she supposed she should at least have some manners. “Well, it won't be becoming of me as a singer if it wasn't," she replied, all bored. “Al here could vouch for me. He knows my style by heart.”

Alastor made no comment, not involving himself in the conversation as he continued sipping on his drink.

“Oh, you two must’ve been friends for a long time."

"Yes, we are. We _drink from the same bottle_. Share a lot of common interests too.”

He flashed a look at her, wondering at what implication was she going with that statement, but Mimzy only gazed back blankly, just wanting to see his eyes on her.

But he was quick to turn away at Charlie’s curious eyes. “Ahem, yes. You could say we did.”

“My, he must’ve seen you in all your best,” Charlie gushed so innocently. “I can only imagine having such a wonderful voice as yours.”

Mimzy hummed in agreement, feeling pride at the complementation of her voice, before turning the topic around and asking, “Do you sing, Charlie?”

Charlie gave a small smile and a shrug. “Um… I’ve had lessons, but I’m not as good.”

Mimzy would have just given a nonchalant reply and quickly brush it off without interest, but Alastor held a different reaction, his eyes widening with a surprise that was interlaced with excitement, and his smile stretched as he exclaimed, “Really now? How interesting! Let’s hear it then!”

Immediately, Mimzy nearly choked on her cigarette smoke and Charlie was struck dumb.

“Wha-?”

Alastor pressed on with much enthusiasm. "Come on, doll! You have a talent you never even told me about? Now that’s criminal! You must indulge me!”

Before Charlie could even think of a reply, Mimzy cut in with a firm, “Now, Al. You shouldn’t just be pushing somebody to sing!” She gestured with her cigarette holder to Charlie. “Look at her. She’s quite terrified, the poor _bunny_.”

Try as she may, Alastor was no fool, and he could see past the curvy _canary’_ s act of concern to the jealousy that was boiling deep inside her. Now her doings were starting to get on his nerves, disliking how she wanted to be a complete _bluenose_ and ruin his fun for the sake of her own vanity.

“Now, now, Mimzy. You don’t think that Charlie would try to steal your spotlight, do you?”

His smile was a challenging one, as he had intended to strike into her, and it worked, just like he had thought when he finally saw her eyes falter, almost looking like she was going to break at how he was purposefully jabbing into her with that jibe.

But she was forgotten dismissively when he turned back to Charlie, his expression changed once more, becoming softer, gentler, and so earnest as he asked, “How about it, doll? Just one song? For me?”

Charlie was immediately at a loss. She was not afraid of going up on a stage and performing – she had done a fair share of recitals in her youth to overcome stage fright. But she was more uncertain of how she would look to Alastor, if she could potentially make herself look like a fool if he thought she wasn’t as good as he thought she might be.

But seeing the way he smiled with that twinkle of excitement, it tugged at her.

“Alright…”

Before she could consider changing her mind, Charlie was already out of her seat and making her way to the stage, nerves promptly bubbling inside her that she pushed down immediately.

When she was out of earshot, it was then Mimzy allowed her composure to break just the slightest, snapping with an outraged glare, “Just what the **hell** are you trying to prove?”

Alastor was too preoccupied with the anticipation of Charlie performing that he did not react to her _lather_ , once more taking another calm sip of his drink. “Not everything revolves around you.”

But Mimzy was hearing none of it. “You think this is some sort of sick game of trying to show me up with some _broad_?” she seethed through gritting teeth, halfway out of her seat to push her face up against his. “She’s as good as dead with you anyway, so what’s the deal?”

She had already done work in getting on his nerves since just now, but now his patience was wearing extremely paper-thin at that statement, spoken a little too loud and obnoxious for his liking, which prompted him to reply, “The ‘deal’ is that you are quite ruining my fun here, Mimzy.”

And it truly was for his own fun. Think of it; a mousy little doll set by herself on a stage where a thousand judging eyes could make or break her. It reminded him somewhat of when he had put her in a spot during her radio interview, finding it fun to throw in some sort of hurdle at her. Sure, he could have not risked her modesty should she potentially disappoint, but he wanted to give a little push to see what she would do. From what he had experienced, she’d find a way to make the best out of it.

Only this time, he wasn’t going to be near her to give his hand to hold, and he was genuinely curious at how this might turn out. Besides, he’s never seen her sing before, thus all the more interesting.

And he wasn’t going to let a _grungy_ _canary_ ruin that for him.

“So, I’d appreciate it if you do sit down and _dry up_.”

The sharp narrowing of his glare was enough to stun Mimzy into silence once more, her ferocity diminishing quickly as a pang of fear struck her heart and dread filled her, and Alastor was satisfied with his intimidation as he watched her bite back all the barbs that were heavy on her tongue to obey his demand and sit back down quietly.

He softened immediately as Charlie had gone closer to the stage and looked at him over her shoulder. He saw the hint of hesitation in her eyes, and in reassurance he raised his glass to her with a nod and a warm smile.

And it was in that smile that only up-ed the nervous anticipation inside Charlie more as she finally reached the band, who had been about to start when she brought up her request for a song; one that her mother sang to her father constantly in her youth, one she knew the lyrics too well, and one she thought it perfect for the man she was singing for.

The musicians were intrigued by the request and invited her to the standing microphone in the centre.

The crowd too were intrigued by the appearance of an unfamiliar pretty doll in place of the resident singer, all eyes in attention on her. But she did not see them, only Alastor, who was still waiting, watching her in expectancy, an eagerness there that, for some reason, drove the bout of courage to swallow down her hesitation and puff up her chest.

And with the first strums of the banjo and a deep breath, she began.

_I've seen the world_

_Done it all_

_Had my cake now_

_Diamonds_

_Brilliant_

_And Bel-Air now_

My, how she could sing!

Needless to say, Alastor was impressed, and even somewhat disappointed that he had not discovered earlier that she had such a sweetness to her vocals.

 _This is going to be very entertaining indeed…_ he thought, gluing his eyes to the stage as he relaxed against his seat, drink in hand and ready to enjoy the show.

_Hot summer nights_

_Mid-July_

_When you and I were forever wild_

_The crazy days_

_The city lights_

_When you would play with me like a child_

Boy, was she a real _baby vamp_ at the moment, having effortlessly gotten all attention on her, gripping everyone in the room with her sweet voice and pretty face that was as pure as the driven snow.

Which was why a sharp pang of jealousy beginning to eat into Mimzy’s heart.

As if it wasn’t enough that the girl – that **bitch** – was undeniably attractive, now she had a voice to boot?

Just… How dare she?!

This was her territory! Her domain! How dare she took over without any shame? How dare she thought she could flatter herself with everyone being so charmed by her? How dare she indulged herself in a song?

And how dare she chose that song of all songs for Alastor?!

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?_

_I know you will_

_I know you will_

_I know that you will_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

Juxtaposed against the jazz, it was such a song of melancholia, the tale of a lovelorn soul questioning if their lover might still love them even if their youth and beauty was lost with a pained soul, but reaffirming that they know they will.

Such a peculiar song for someone as cheery as sunshine as Charlie was, but it was in that contrary that made Alastor realise that something was up, that there was some something about those lyrics, and he was compelled to know.

_I've seen the world_

_Lit it up as my stage now_

_Channelling angels in_

_The new age now_

He wasn’t sure if it was the liquor giving him an _edge_ , but at that moment, there was suddenly a funny feeling that was starting to grow inside him.

Has he ever seen Charlie in such a manner?

Lively, yes.

Charming, yes.

But absolutely and utterly captivating?

_Hot summer days_

_Rock and roll_

_The way you'd play for me at your show_

_And all the ways I got to know_

_Your pretty face and electric soul_

The way she sang that stanza to him with her eyes fixed to his and with such a passion coating her sweet voice; it was as though she was singing praises to him, making Alastor’s compulsion grow strong with a tilt of his head and the widening of his grin.

This definitely sounded almost like a confession, and if he had been a shy fella, he would have blushed at the thought. But instead, he was quite charmed, thinking how such a feat of courage this was on Charlie’s part to do it through song.

It was so unconventional, but Alastor was an unconventional man, and this made him rest his elbows on the table and lean forward to listen closely to what more she had to say.

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?_

_I know you will_

_I know you will_

_I know that you will_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

As the solo of the clarinet and trombone filled the air, Charlie began to sway and tap her feet to the mellow melody, dancing gently in tune to the beat of the music, which only entranced Alastor more at seeing her so at peace, so lovely and so wholesome.

But seeing the way he watched her all mesmerised, Mimzy could feel the uncomfortable tugging of her heartstrings, an ache she was so painstakingly familiar with threatening to release the floodgates of sad yearning that she held for the man.

She could not bear it, the way he looked at that girl in a manner that he would never look to her with. Unable to confront the discomfort from watching him, she got up from her seat and left in a rush.

She did not need to look back to know that Alastor didn’t even notice that she left.

_Dear God_

_When I get to Heaven_

_Please let me bring my man_

_When he comes_

_Tell me that you'll let him in_

_Father tell me if you can_

The way she was almost begging for some higher power to give him the promise of paradise, it warmed him yet tickled him in amusement.

Heaven was such a laughable destination for him. No, he was not suited for Heaven. Not when at the moment, those devious thoughts came rushing back to his mind, the thought of Charlie wanting, almost needing, for him to be with her, unknowing of what he desired to do to her once he had her completely in his grasp, doing what would constitute as another reason for him to never be allowed entrance to Heaven.

But he wouldn’t have minded. To have Charlie, that would probably be it. That would be his paradise, where he could bask in the glory and magnificence of having her so impuissant to him that she would voluntarily put herself at the mercy of his whims.

That alone would be his Heaven.

_Oh!_

_That grace!_

_Oh!_

_That body!_

_Oh!_

_That face!_

_Makes me wanna party_

_He's my sun_

_He makes me shine like diamonds_

It was all so much, how she was singing to this man. This amazing man. This man that could lift her up with just that smile of his alone.

Charlie felt a sensation in her chest that felt like it had gone ablaze with the way he watched her. There was an emotion there that, up until now, she had thought him to be so nescient of. It was almost foreign to see him in such a way, and it left her mesmerised that she was allowed to see such a look that he might not have shown anyone else.

Up on that stage, alone and singing her heart, she had never felt so vulnerable from seeing that look in his eyes. Never felt so confronted with feelings that she knew rested within her heart but was now threatening to break free and overwhelm her.

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?_

What sort of question was that?

How could she even think to doubt that he would see her as anything but such?

How could that be, when at that moment, she was such a jewel. Truly one of a kind, that charming little belle. How she could even surprise him at every turn, delighting him in ways he thought impossible of anyone to do. It was almost unreal, how taken he was by her simply by this beautiful song that she serenaded to him.

Her voice, her face, her entire form.

It called to him.

It beckoned him.

It drew him in.

It was quite precarious how Alastor seemed to be teetering off the edge, but at the moment, resistance was completely futile with how Charlie was almost begging for him, as if she needed an answer out of him to a question that was both clear and uncertain at the same time. To that, all he wanted to do now was to throw caution to the wind, to let himself fall, to answer her yearning.

_Oh, sweet Charlie… Just what are you trying to say?_

_I know you will_

_I know you will_

_I know that you will_

And he would.

Without a doubt, he would.

He would because when he’d been beaten and bruised and fresh out of murder, she took him in with no qualms to care for him. He would because when he recoiled at her touch, she respected him so much to be wary of herself. He would because when he nearly forced his way into her room, she was there the next morning and served him breakfast even if it was with god-awful tea. He would because she took the time to make him her very first batch of delicious potato beignets.

And even if at her life’s end, even if painted in red and her pale skin was cold as the snow it was akin to, he still would. He would because she smiled at everything he did for her, because she blushed when their eyes meet, because she reached for his hand when his fingers touched hers, because she sent his blood rushing with just simply being her.

Because she was Charlie and she was sweet and kind and gentle and she shone with such a dazzling brilliance that she was the most loveliest thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

The haze of liquor and the seduction of her song may have addled his mind, but it did not seem like so when he thought to himself that he knew there was no need to doubt because she would always be so young and so beautiful, and perhaps with that affirmation, the answer to the question was, without a doubt…

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

_Yes…_

And with the final blaring of music, it came to a sudden and smooth close, and soon came a loud round of applause for the deserving doll, even receiving a standing ovation by many.

Flushed, Charlie gave a sweet shy smile to the crowd and curtsied. A kind gentleman from the band gave her his hand and helped her off the stage, and she navigated her way through the crowd with that smile still fixed, ever so often bowing her head and giving her thanks, but very soon did her eyes finally went to Alastor’s, whose eyes were still on her, his hands moving in a slow clap.

“Goodness…” she sighed as she fixed her on her seat, patting her cheeks to calm the flush there. “That was… something.”

Alastor said nothing, watching in a daze as she picked up her drink to quench her thirst, taking long sips of her Boulevardier until her glass was almost empty. Exhaling a relieved sigh, she turned to him with a twinkle in her eyes, asking shyly, “How did you think?”

But Charlie received no answer, unbeknownst that there was a drop of her drink left clinging to her bottom lip, which affixed his eyes there.

There was something about that red drop of liquid against her pouty flesh. How it glistened stark against the paleness of her face. How it looked like a single drop of blood that the seeing it hang off her lips made it all the more tantalising to him.

“Alastor?”

It seemed like a haze that his fingers reached out to her, fingers grasping her chin with his thumb out with the intention to clean that drop. But as the pad came to rest against her soft lip, he realised that this wasn’t enough.

This touch alone simply wasn’t enough.

Alastor leaned in closer and closer, and he could hear the shuddering of a nervous breath as the heat that radiated off her face. And for a short moment, he watched her, anticipating her reaction, seeing if there was hesitance and if she would possibly pull back, and he was unsure of how to save himself from it.

But there was no resistance.

And so, he leaned forward, and with a tenderness he didn’t know he was capable of, pressed his lips to hers.

It was like time stood still for them at the moment. The noise faded and the images blurred as they became attuned to the powerful furore that overwhelmed them, like a jolt of electric had shot through the both of them that had their thoughts going haywire, their bodies heating up and their hearts racing too fast that it could probably be skipping several beats, causing them to be breathless under the kiss.

As their lips shaped against each other, there came the subconscious need to be closer, and Charlie forgot about her restrictions to touch him as her hands came to his shoulders, to anchor herself before she could drown in the sensation of this moment. Likewise, Alastor held no aversion to it, his own coming to cup her face, to hold her in place so he could drink in more of her.

Her lips felt exactly how he always imagined her to feel – soft, silky, and warm with the rush coursing of blood underneath those rosebuds. The taste of her – so uniquely her – was exquisite against the notes of the Boulevardier, an intoxication that pulled him in further to deepen the kiss, losing himself right then and there, letting go of resistance and allowing himself to be ensnared.

Too in their little moment that they were wholly unaware of a few eyes watching them. Many were smart to turn their gaze away from the openly intimate display, but not his friends. From where they stood, their eyes were on them all awestruck. Niffty was giggling girlishly, and Rosie’s mouth was gaped in her shock. Even Husk, still pissed about the earlier event but was now absolutely bamboozled, gave a low whistle.

What a sight! Who would have thought that Alastor – _the_ Alastor Carlon; the loner, the unforgiving and cold-blooded killer - could actually be _dizzy with a dame_?

But breaking his distraction from the strange imagery was a loud sniffling coming from the edge of the bar, and Husk’s eyes glazed over to see Mimzy making chortling sounds as she fought the sniffles that broke through her. Her face was a burning red, glistening with tears streaming down from eyes that were hot with fury. Her hands were balled into fists and clenched so hard that her sharp nails could probably break her skin.

 _Oh, boy…_ Husk thought to himself in dismay at the mess that could possibly follow.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all.

Alas, all these activities escaped Alastor and Charlie’s notice, and it was a long while until they finally pulled away, their eyes immediately meeting, both hazy with penchant, as their breaths slowed to a steady rhythm.

The seconds ticked by before slowly, they pulled away to have space to arrange themselves, Alastor smoothing back his hair and Charlie tucking a lock behind her ear. Neither said anything about what had just befell upon them, looking elsewhere except each other as reality returned them to composure, a tension lingering between them as the heat they had experienced began to cool, though certainly still there.

Eventually, even the silence got a bit too much, and it was Alastor who broke it with a clearing of his throat.

“I think that’s enough excitement for tonight... Let’s get home, shall we?”

* * *

No words were exchanged on the walk back home, the silence hanging between them in tune with the quiet of the night. But the same could not be said about noisy raging mess that was Charlie’s thoughts at the moment.

Everything was too electrified at the moment. His arm crooked around hers, his suit jacket that he had draped on her shoulders to keep her warm against the cold, the scent of his cologne, the warmth that was radiating off him…

It was almost all too much for Charlie, filling her with a headiness that only added to all the liquor she had drunk tonight, her mind nothing but the way he held her hand as they danced the Charleston, the way he watched her so captivated as she sang, and the way his lips pressed to hers in such a burning tingle that she could still feel now.

The whole time she had to fight the urge to bring it up, noticing the way Alastor had been relatively silent since they had left the speakeasy. A little bout of anxiety made her afraid that he may have regretted what they had done, but was that really the case if now his arm seemed to be holding on tight to her as well?

It seemed all too soon when they finally turned into the corner leading to their neighbourhood, and sooner still when she slowly climbed up the steps of her front porch, Alastor waiting at the foot of it.

It was with what composure she had left that she turned to face him, and finally looking at his face that was too written with emotions that made him almost unreadable, it was then her heart started to sink.

“Thank you… For tonight…”

Her voice was nothing but a soft murmur, but her throat was tight as she swallowed down everything that was starting to bubble up inside her.

The soft and gentle smile he gave her did not help with matters. “Once again, the pleasure was all mine, darling,” he replied with a bow of his head. “And thank you, for the lovely time.”

Well, it hadn’t been all that lovely for him, but the memory of the wretched party was no longer at the forefront of his mind, having been placated with the amazing end at the speakeasy. Charlie had been too involved with her own thoughts to realise the same happening to Alastor, who could only think throughout of her being so lovely and graceful and good.

But alas, all good things would have to come to an end soon.

And so, came their usual parting of goodbyes, his fingers reaching to take her dainty ones, holding it gently in his like it was a freshly-picked flower, bringing it to the soft pucker of his lips as he planted a gentle kiss. But against the gentleness of that touch was the silent hammering of Charlie’s heart seeming to grow louder and stronger, the pulsation so obvious that she was certain that he could feel its rhythm against her skin.

That’s when he looked up back at her, and that’s when she saw it.

And that’s when probably, the good things didn’t have to end so soon.

The intent, how it darkened his eyes, how it called her in for the promise of something more dangerous, more alluring, more tempting. And with that look alone, she was entranced, filled with an unmistakable desire, driven to not see him leave just yet, to feel him as close as she had in the speakeasy, to delve in to the urge that would lead her to the unknown.

Just like that, everything was undone.

Lost in his eyes, her hand slipped out of his, joined by the other to bring up to his face, hovering in hesitance, held back but weak against restraint.

She almost wanted…

No…

She needed…

“Alastor… Can I… Can I touch you?..”

Silence followed, and in the midst of yearning thoughts, she thought to herself that this was a big mistake, that she was taking it too far and was disrespecting him, and that she should stop herself right now before she could potentially make anything worse.

But all doubts immediately vanished when Alastor gently took her wrists, pulling it closer until they were where they wanted to be, cupping his handsome face in her palms oh so gently.

“…Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only have one thing to say; FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> I've been preparing myself for this scene SINCE THE BEGINNING, and I've always had my heart set on 'Young and Beautiful' for their first kiss! While Lana Del Rey's is GOLD and will probably be its main theme, I would envision Charlie singing in the version by Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox to befit the 1920s style. Either way you wanna hear it, THIS SONG IS PERFECT AND THIS SCENE IS PERFECT AND EVERYTHING'S PERFECT.
> 
> So sorry for being too excitable, my darlings! Twitter has been an exciting cesspool of chaotic madness that's just been fuelling my inner psychotic and filling me with needs of grounds, walls and chaises (You lot know who you are!) and I've been on a hyper rush from everything!
> 
> Not only that, it's only adding more to my happiness that I've received such wonderful art from Miichei (@EstevezNana) and Mika (@mikkiaru__) on Twitter. You lot always know how to fill my heart with so much joy, so I can only that I was able to do the same with this chapter.
> 
> So, with all things considered, you probably know what's coming next, don't you, my darling readers? ;)
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Blow – Leave  
> Balled Up – Confusing  
> Dip the bill – Have a drink  
> Tipping a few – Have a few drinks  
> Scofflawing - Chugging down  
> Togged to the bricks – Dressed to the nines  
> Button - Face  
> Lalapazaza - Good sport  
> Conk - Head  
> Ish kabibble - No worries  
> Ducky – Approving  
> Bloused – Leave from  
> Whangdoodle – Jazz number  
> Fag – A smoke  
> Drink from the same bottle – Close friends  
> Bunny – A term of endearment applied to the lost, disoriented  
> Bluenose - Killjoy  
> Lather - Tantrum  
> Broad – Girl  
> Grungy - Envious  
> Canary – Female singer  
> Dry Up – Shut Up  
> baby vamp - a pretty or popular female  
> Edge – A buzz  
> Dizzy with a dame – In love


	28. Desire's Rush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT AND MILD MENTIONS OF TRAUMA (Sexual content begins after 'xXx'. Please skip to the next 'xXx' for continuation, but story flow remains the same!)

It was all a rush.

A rush of breaths as their lips found each other again.

A rush of limbs as they misshapenly made their way into her house in their embrace.

A rush of touch as their hands gripped to hold each other so close.

Charlie’s back closed the door with loud carelessness as Alastor pushed her up against it, his body pressed hard against hers that she began to fell flush against him, being held up by her arms wrapped around his neck and his around her dainty waist, both giving no allowance for even an inch of space between them.

Lips locked, they savoured the taste of each other, allowing themselves to submit to the intoxication. Charlie tasted as sweet as the first time, but now the taste of liquor had dissipated and on his tongue was just her, and he would never think that it could elicit highs he would have never thought possible.

Alastor kissed her softly at first, and it was as sweet as the first, gentle to the touch and exhilarating that both were quickly rendered breathless. But with the slow building of intense passion that was growing more heated between them both, his insistent mouth was tempted for more, and more he sought as his tongue began to poke at the seams of her lips as if to politely ask for permission.

Charlie gasped aloud, her eyes flying open in her shock, and in response Alastor’s eyes parted just the slightest to look at her with earnest reassurance. Seeing his heavy-lidded gaze calmed her immediately, though still shy at the foreignness of his tongue, but another gentle prodding and it sent a warmth shooting straight to her core, sending her already-weak legs trembling, evoking a plethora of sensations that erupted with ecstasy that her tongue twined with his.

She didn’t know if she was drunk off all the drinks she’s had for tonight or from this very moment with him, but she was feeling bold, and being bold made her do a little nip to his bottom lip. Alastor moaned into her mouth, and hearing that guttural sound reverberate through him sent a shiver down her spine, and each passing second just seemed to be growing with an irresistible need.

They wanted more.

But clearly the door was not a good place to start.

In a rush, Alastor bent down and his hands went to the back of her thighs to effortlessly hitch her up to his waist, and Charlie erupted into giggles as her legs wrapped around his slim hips, smiling so beautifully that he was taken once more to capture her lips again, and her giggles faded back into breathless sighs as he indulged her, never once breaking from each other as he began to make his way up the stairs carrying her like a babe, not noticing that his suit jacket had fallen off her shoulders and onto the floor.

Before Charlie could collect her thoughts to tell him which room to go, he had already found his way. That’s right, she did tell him which was her door on the night she had nursed him, and it only paved the way all the more easily as they headed inside. He kicked the door closed as if to give them their privacy, which seemed like a silly gesture since they were alone in her house, but it was within this solitude that the potency of need became more palpable, thickening the air with the desires of their wants and needs, so dangerous and yet so thrilling that it electrified Charlie’s senses to no end.

After a few steps forward, he tumbled on top of Charlie on her bed that was so soft and plush, the sheets cool to her heated skin, but immediately crumpled under the weight of their bodies pressed together.

Her hands weaved into Alastor’s brown hair, mussing up the slick-back that he had styled it in as she gripped his tresses, and she must have tugged a tad bit too hard because he made a sound that was immediately followed by a naughty chuckle. His own wasn’t too well-behaved, one still on her thigh and feeling the soft and smooth milky flesh, fingers pressing ever so gently yet setting her skin ablaze with just his fingertips, heating her so much that she was close to combusting.

For just a split second, Charlie was stricken by a bout of consciousness. What were they doing? They only had their first kiss barely an hour ago, and now here they were on her bed, embarking on the one of most scandalous deeds known to man which was they joys of the flesh. She almost felt like a _chippy_ at how quick she had decided to give in.

But as quick as her conscience acting up, so did her thoughts of ‘to hell with it’. She was by no means a pure angel, and Alastor was just a sinful delight that she had no qualms to misbehave with him, especially with him. It was probably what she had coming – all those weeks of simple touches and intriguing looks that had come together to this point.

Releasing the grip on his hair, Charlie’s hands began to wander down the nape of his neck – her touch there sending pleasurable shivers throughout his body – and onto his back, letting her palms explore and roam the expanse of his size before it trailed over his broad shoulders and down to his pectorals. Alastor was amused at how she was coping a feel of him, and he would definitely oblige and do the same.

But then she pushed him.

It was a quick few seconds, and he suddenly found himself flipped onto his back, landing on the soft plush bed. Charlie felt a bit of a thrill at the bold and daring move she had committed, feeling brave as she started to climb on top of him.

But to Alastor, that sudden gesture broke the lull of the moment for a bit. He had not foreseen such an act and thus did not prepare for it, and the fact that he had been taken off-guard at the moment suddenly caused something in him to snap.

Before he could collect his thoughts, Charlie was now on top of him, positioning herself so that she was sitting on his torso with her legs straddled at his sides, effectively pinning down with a small smile as she quickly removed her silk gloves. But while she was not heavy enough to keep him pinned, the sensation of her weight pressing him down made him feel that he was being restrained, and it sent a twinge of minor panic to fuel the beginnings of the coursing of adrenaline; his heart started hammering against his chest, his breathing was becoming shallow, and his racing thoughts were internally yelling all sorts of warnings.

This was all so familiar, and it brought his guts twisting in disgust and anguish.

This was a fight or flight.

In that bout of adrenaline, Alastor suddenly shot up into a sitting position, the momentum of his movements so harsh and abrupt that it could have definitely thrown Charlie off-balance and send her tumbling off of him. Though, it wouldn’t have been so possible with how his hands had quickly gripped her arms, but it was uncertain on what was the intent of it.

Alastor couldn’t come up with a clear answer, his mind becoming muddled with flashes of memories that had been buried deep, but had found its way out.

_The hard and dirty wooden floors beneath him…_

No.

_A flurry of hard merciless hits…_

This won’t do.

_The gripping of a knife…_

This won’t happen to him again.

“… Alastor?...”

Within the shock of the moment, Charlie’s immediate reflex was to bring her hands up to stop him with a press to his chest, putting enough force to not have his head potentially collide to hers. Within seconds, they were face-to-face, and her brows were knitted in concern as she looked into his wide unnerved eyes, realising that he looked somewhat daunted despite the smile, which only made him look more haunting. There was no response to her murmur of breath, and his eyes were still discomposed as it stared hard at hers, looking stunned like a deer caught in headlights.

This frightened her, and Charlie didn’t know what else to do except to cup his face as gently as she could. But as her fingertips came to his cheeks, it only instigated a sudden jolt through his body, making her freeze.

How was this familiar?

Oh, yes. That night when she brought him into her house for the first time, when she had touched him without forewarning and he had flinched away.

Had she probably gone too far? She had thrown all carefulness aside thus far, so had she maxed out the extent that Alastor would have been willing to go? It made her nervous. As much as the heavy need inside was amplified by the man underneath, by no means would she want to do it if he did not want to. She would rather his consent than anything else.

“…Alastor… Are you okay?”

The sound of her voice broke him out of his trepidation, and immediately he broke out of the mess of disgusting horrible thoughts to finally look at Charlie properly, seeing her fretful eyes searching into his, and he realised what was happening.

He wasn’t being trapped.

This wasn’t what it was.

It was Charlie.

She’s harmless.

She wouldn’t do anything.

“Yes…” His voice finally returned to him to answer her question. “Yes, I am…”

But the doll was unconvinced, and it was obvious in the way she kept staring at him. Now this sent Alastor in a whole other discomfort, doing his best to look her right in the eyes to show her that he was alright, not as if he just got himself in a mild panic attack over nothing.

Charlie gulped, and her hands began inching away from him. “If this… If this is too much… We don’t have to-”

She was hesitant now, not only because of his strange reaction, but because conscience suddenly took a firm hold and suddenly it felt too fast for anything.

They had their **first kiss** just an hour ago! And now here they were on her bed, with her touching him when she knew damn well that he didn’t like to be touched? What was she thinking? This was all a mistake! It didn’t help the fact that he was most probably _jingle-brained_ because of all the alcohol – she wasn’t sure how much exactly he had to drink tonight, but it didn’t matter because he did drink – and it was in a _spifflicated_ state that he might not be thinking right. And how dare she do such things to him when she herself probably wasn’t thinking right?

Embarrassment was flooding in, slowly becoming a bit unbearable to her liking, and now all she felt that she wanted to do was just get off him and off the bed and just move away from this little situation. Apologies were becoming heavy on her tongue, ready to shoot out in a long rapid string once he calmed down, and she could only agonise within herself on how exactly she could fix this now.

But seeing her look so brooding, for some reason it immediately struck a chord in Alastor. Like he had thought, she was an open book – there was hesitance now with what had just occurred. She wasn’t looking at him in the eye, though he could see that she was worried about him.

And it was at that he began to feel the littlest bit of offense. He felt insulted that she seemed to be quite pitiful to him. It was like a stabbing to his ego, and it almost made him feel furious that she was treating him like a poor confused little thing, probably thinking that he couldn’t handle this moment.

No, he would not let her think that he was being weak; not when she had stimulated him up so much to this point.

“No.”

The firmness of his answer threw Charlie off, and she only watched his face in the darkness to see if he was sure. But he was already holding the sides of her face, pulling her closer as he muttered, “No. You brought me this far, darling. Give me this.”

It was as if her touch was a sort of drug to him, for at the feel of her soft skin, Alastor began to relax, enough that as soon as his lips pressed to hers again, he sighed in pleasure – and relief? – at the taste of her once more.

At first, Charlie did not reciprocate, still somewhat shaken by the unexpected reaction that she stayed still as she thought to herself in worry if Alastor was alright. But he seemed eager to quickly forget about that little moment, and his lips and tongue began to urge hers, and soon she could feel delight that had been growing between them reigniting with a new flare. It was almost in shameful embarrassment that now she was so weak to him in all senses, parting her lips just the slightest so that he could have a taste of her once more.

Not breaking from the moment, her hands returned to touch him as she gently removed the monocle and put it aside somewhere, and it then smoothed down his neck to his bowtie, and with a quick tug, it came loose, immediately forgotten as it too got dropped aside. Her attention turned to the buttons of his shirt, where she smoothly began to release each one, and when his shirt came undone, she did not implore him to remove it. Instead, her hands placed itself back on his chest, relishing in the direct warmth that had been cloaking her since the speakeasy.

But as her palms grazed over his torso, she began to notice a peculiar feeling on his flesh, and she couldn’t help but to break from the kiss to have a quick look down, to discover what exactly was she feeling.

Scars?

She couldn’t see it well in the darkness, but from touch alone she could tell that it littered his entire torso. Ragged obtrusions against the smoothness of his skin, some criss-crossing and others lone and diagonal. They felt glossy and rubbery, healed and aged with time and imprinted forever onto his being.

But just how were there so many?

_… Alastor… What happened to you?..._

But she wasn’t able to ponder on it for long, because Alastor’s hands had found its way back to her thighs, fingers squeezing her flesh gently as the skirts of her dress were bunching up in his grip, and then roaming up to cope a feel of the smooth curve of her waist.

Any curiosity that had rose up just as quickly died down as immediately her focus melted into a puddle again, and if Charlie thought she had been burning before, now she was truly ignited with a wildfire inside her, elicited from just his touch alone.

With his hold on her and her distraction, Alastor flipped her over so that she was below him again, and having her under him gave him that sense of dominance once more, much to his liking. His hands continued to mosey up her thigh so much so that her dress was hiked up to reveal a black lace skirt slip, translucent enough that it gave him a peek of what it was meant to cover. It was like a little tease, but he didn’t want a little when he wanted more – so much more. And he strived for that as he pushed her dress up to just above her breasts, revealing a matching black brassiere of lace that did little to hide the prominent peaks of her mounds.

His lips pressed on her collarbone, and from there he began peppering sweet gentle kisses that left a burning trail down to her chest, to the valley between her breasts and down to her stomach. Her senses peaked when she felt a hint of tongue on her skin, distracting her enough that she hadn’t been completely aware that he was pulling down her slip with one hand and her brassier and dress with the other.

Alastor was definitely experienced. With his hands and lips so smooth and deft, there was no way these were the movements of a man who had never taken someone in bed before. And for a split second, Charlie felt a bit disappointed that she was probably not the first to take pleasure in this euphoria, but then again, she supposed it was fair, and probably good for her part that she wouldn’t have to feel ashamed of her own state of incelibacy.

But despite that, it was only a wonder that she felt like such a shy maiden when she was finally stripped bare to his eyes, turning her face away and being thankful for the darkness of the room so that he couldn’t see her blush.

She could not see how his eyes were now voracious with lust at the sight of her naked body. He didn’t think that she could be any more beautiful, but how wrong he was. Her waif chassis was as smooth as porcelain, her snowy skin tinged pink from arousal seemed to glow with the sheen streaks of moonlight that did little to illuminate the room.

Alastor’s eyes travelled the length of her, drinking in the image, savouring in the sight of what he thought to be so divine and yet so unholy to his eyes, and he wondered if there was ever a body he had seen that would have stirred him so much.

At least, one that hadn’t been _cut down_ by him.

Although, as the nature of those thoughts were starting to creep in, it began to dawn on him that… this was it.

This was his moment.

She was here, lying in front of him all waiting and wanting, so vulnerable and exposed, and it was like she was serving herself to him. It was all too perfect to resist imagining it, especially now that the urges were intensified by the fact that she was here within his grasp and he could have her **within seconds**.

His hands reached down for her slim neck, and as he gently covered it as if to caress her there, he discovered that it could fit so perfectly in his palm, and sure enough, his fingers started to tremble with the growing of excited anticipation, aching to give her neck the squeeze he was aching for, to indulge himself in the wonders of turning the gentle pink within the pale canvas of her skin into harsh strokes of red, to mar her unblemished flesh with rigorous cuts of various shapes and sizes, his mouth almost starting to water to taste her warm flesh on his tongue…

“…Alastor…” Charlie murmured, her voice mewling in desperation. “…Please…”

And just like that, he stopped.

Alastor always prided himself on control, and there wasn’t anything much that could cause him to break it, but at the sound of her voice calling his name, so desperate and heavy with want, and just so captivatingly seductive, he felt blood immediately rush to his core, and he was about to lose his mind in the frenzy at his new realisation that this wasn’t the hunger that he was accustomed to.

This was _that_ kind of hunger.

He needed her alive to satisfy this hunger.

xXx

He could feel his trousers were starting to feel tight, so constrained that it was almost asking to be released and find its release, and he was more than ready to oblige as his hands reached down. But it seemed that Charlie knew of his want as well, for her dainty hands beat him to it, already beginning to unbuckle his belt in a hurried rush. Alastor only watched patiently as she did, but his patience was wearing thin by the time his belt came loose, and he must have been too overwhelmed by impatience to care about how fast he had pushed his boxers and trousers down so quickly that it was almost shameful how he almost sprang out without warning.

But there wasn’t any room for shame with the way Charlie looked at it with wide eyes, and it seemed that for a split second, she was almost scared, but that vulnerability only did wonders to his tainted mind, finding it all the more irresistible of the doll to be looking like a mighty fine prey, trapped with nowhere to run, completely at his mercy.

It just turned him on even more.

Shrugging out of his shirt and kicking his bottom-wear off, Alastor crawled up the length of her, the sensation of bare skin pressed against each other bringing a new type of ecstasy to them as the need grew stronger. He kissed her again, feeding off on her desire, as his hands crawled down her, before finding what he was looking for, sighing in pleasure at the feeling of wetness on his fingers. Charlie felt a shiver run through her as he brushed her folds, and she tried so hard to bite back the moan that escaped her, which only galvanised Alastor more.

“Quite the naughty thing, aren’t you?” he teased with a dark chuckle.

Under normal circumstances, Charlie would have liked to tease back in return. But now, she felt so scandalised, at the mercy of him and the feel of his hot body and the ministrations of his finger on her wet lips.

It only got worse when Alastor pushed his digit into her, so tantalisingly slow, and it made her toes curl and her hands gripping the sheets as he began to pump his finger inside her, drawing out more pleasured whimpers that only aroused him more with the feeling of her wet velvety walls.

But it wasn’t fair that he was making her feel all of this and she did not have a part to play, and with that thought in mind, she willed her strength to reach her hand down to his raised manhood, finding with a brush of her hand that his tip was wet with a bead. Charlie smiled weakly at seeing his mouth gaping open with his jaw trembling as she began to stroke him as slow as he worked her, and from touch alone she marvelled at the hardness of his smooth turgid flesh that seemed to throb with as blood filled him there.

The copious eroticism of their hands playing with each other was something to behold for the two new lovers, and the kisses shared between them just added that sprinkle of something sweet. By no means had they expected they would be caught in this happenstance where all barriers have been broken and receiving more than just a bit of arm holding and wisps of touches, but within that bubble of privacy in her room where lust and intimacy took hold, there seemed to be no choice but to surrender wholeheartedly.

That was enough.

No more teasing.

The need was too strong.

With a low growl, Alastor withdrew his finger out of her, and Charlie was about close to crying for her release, almost on the verge of begging him until she was stopped when he suddenly pushed her hand away from manhood and replaced it with his own as he now held the tip to her entrance.

For that brief moment, they only looked at each other, staring into each other’s eyes, a mixture of wonder and nervous suspense at what was to come. There was almost a hesitance there, the uncertainty of what would follow once they would embark on this path of no return.

“Al...”

Charlie’s voice was quiet, but the way it shook spoke volumes. She was frightened, this lovely thing of beauty, and it somehow touched Alastor’s heart that despite that, she still had the strength to look at him in the eye, to show that she was certain.

“Shh, darling…” he murmured soft and sweet to her. “I’ll be gentle.”

With that promise, he finally pushed himself in.

The quiet of the room that had so far been only filled with their breathy sighs and quiet moans was broken like a dam had burst, Charlie gasping out loud in a midst of pain and pleasure, and Alastor inhaling sharply through grit teeth.

She was tight.

So gloriously tight.

Alastor was almost seeing stars at the feeling of her warmth enveloping his member so thoroughly, numbing every single inch of him except there, making it so her heat was the only thing he could feel. And it did not help that she was already pulsating, her kitty over-reacting to the sudden intrusion within her body, and sending repeated spikes of pleasure coursing through him each time he felt a pulse radiating around his girth.

He could only bring himself to hiss in pleasure as he started to move, pulling out all the way until only the tip remained in her, but even with that much of him inside her did not stop her body from quivering from the fullness she was experiencing, her walls slick and her nether lips fluttering. She was trembling so much, like her hands in the way it gripped his hair.

In his daze he let out a strangled moan, his body starting to tremble in the slightest as he thrust himself back in, eliciting another loud moan from the darling underneath him, and just hearing her mewling possessed him to start thrusting in earnest, wanting to hear more of those delicious sounds escaping her lips like it was the most beautiful music he has ever heard.

With every roll of his hips, Charlie was quickly starting to lose her breath, feeling like she was choking from the sheer intensity that was Alastor. Her legs weakly wrapped around his slender waist once more, giving a new angle for him to hit within her walls, and her hands scrambled to hold more of him, coming to his back and digging deep, not realising the jagged streaks of flesh that decorated his skin, not in the right sense of mind to pay much attention to it anyways.

It was almost maddening, how the furore of sex with Charlie had rendered him a senseless being that was stripped down to the purest animalistic instinct. There was no space for control within his own self as he yielded and basked in the euphoria that she had put him in. She was like a drug that he was getting off on, becoming too far gone, too late for him to turn back and gain control.

And yet he would gladly lose it. He would gladly give her every inch of him if it meant having this from her – if it meant filling her up and having her take every inch of him.

Through blurry vision, she gazed up at her new lover who looked back at her with lust-laden eyes, and Charlie didn’t know if it was just her mind addled by too many sensations that had been overwhelming her within the span of the past hour, but she thought to herself that he was probably the most magnificent thing that she had ever set her sights upon, taking in all of the piercing of his gaze and the sharpness of his features and the pleasure-ridden smile and it was all becoming too much. It was terrifying but she dared not do anything else as she felt her insides coiling up so tightly, her sex surging as suddenly it got hotter and hotter…

And suddenly she’s there, at the highest state of bliss that was out-of-this-world and beyond her wildest imaginations. Her self-gratification crashed down on her like tidal waves as her ecstasy ruptured through her, her presence of mind collapsing over and over again. She could only imagine how she must sound to him now, mewling like a harlot as her back arched and her body starting to writhe in the sheets as she rode out her release on him.

“…Al...as…tor…”

His name broke into little whimpers in her throat, and at the sensation of sudden tightening, his composure was lost to release and he was quickly following suit, and it took every bit of sanity he had left in him to act quickly and pull out in time for him to spill ungracefully onto her stomach. His length pumped out streaks of white that painted the canvas of her body, and it was to his own satisfaction to think of how his essence would seep into her skin, making her now as his.

xXx

It was done.

They had done it.

It was absolutely magnificent.

Completely spent, Alastor succumbed to fatigue from the rigorous act to fall to his side, ridden weak and unable to hold himself up, but having just that little bit of strength to take Charlie in his arms and hold her to his chest, their breathing laden with exhaustion as both fell into a steady synchronised rhythm.

The haze of lust and pleasure permeated the air around them so heavily that all they breathed in were the sweet scent of each other’s essences. As they mellowed out, it took them a few seconds in their daze to realise that they had arrived in euphoria, higher than they could have ever anticipated; so high that it was almost terrifying of how far they’ve gone to reach such hedonism.

It was just too much to bear in this moment, but it was perfect, exciting, and yet terrifying that once the high waned and they would find their way back to reality, things were definitely never going to be the way it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me while I go stand in a shower of cold water.
> 
> I HAVE BEEN PREPARED FOR THIS DAY AND YET I CANNOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME CONTROL MYSELF.
> 
> But really, you two! Really rushing it a tad too fast, don't you think? Hoooooooo boy, you better hope things aren't going to probably get messy after this little romp you had! *wink wonk*
> 
> Alas, dear readers, I have finally reached that tag that probably most of you were anticipating for! The previous chapter has received so much fanfare and I just hope the build-up was right! This isn't murder, but it's definitely a little *ahem ahem* This is probably the most eloquent sex scene I have written in my days and I'm not sure if this was on point but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! (GOD WHY AM I STILL BLUSHING)
> 
> Smiling Man has gotten an official SPANISH TRANSLATION - it's titled 'Hombre Sonriente' and the first two chapters have been published! So my dear Spanish readers, please do enjoy! And thank you to Soomi (Twitter: @monogatsu), Eli and Israel for taking the time to patiently translate the chapters! You guys rock!
> 
> Not only that, it's probably in the works for a RUSSIAN TRANSLATION!!! I'm still working it out with the darling, but I'll keep you updated for further news!
> 
> And you guys?! All the fanart that's been pouring in?? The previous chapter was ON FIRE!!! I am so thankful for all the beautiful art that's been blessing my eyes this week on Twitter and I just wanna sit and cry in happiness!! It's all so gorgeous and thank you all my lovely darlings! Please do me a favour and check them out on Twitter, and definitely support them!:
> 
> 莫晴 : @piu5207573  
> Eltío: @DeyaMela  
> Angel: @DrawyDraws  
> Alice: @27kiane  
> Bethy: @MoonStar3133  
> Emily: @EmilyFl92704508  
> Mafuyu: @mafuyu_sakura  
> Danie: @eve_danie  
> Red: @REALRedustrial
> 
> It's been a real exciting week on Twitter, AND I'M LOOKING AT YOU, CHAOTIC NEUTRAL WALLSEXUAL CREW! Pouring over assignments late into the night really isn't so bad with you goofballs around!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Chippy - Woman of easy virtue  
> Jingle-brained - Addled  
> Spifflicated - Drunk  
> Cut down - Killed


	29. Peculiar Happenstances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Lucifer was never one to not enjoy a party. Lilith had certainly done an excellent job planning out this birthday _shindig_ , and it was without a doubt a success in terms of glamour and extravagance – he strived for that with his ability to afford. But he wouldn’t deny that he was glad that it was finally over in the late of the night, when the drinks have been drunk and songs have been danced to, and the guests have been _out on the roof_ and have now left.

Well, not all of them though, considering he still had some… ‘business’ to run through.

“I take it that the _can house_ has been making good business,” he remarked as he leisurely counted the bills from a given manila envelope. “Not too shabby. You covered all of the interest.”

“That’s right, boss,” Valentino grinned with pride. “Couldn’t have done it without my prized boy.”

“That ‘Angel Dust’, am I correct? Must be a real crowd-pleaser.”

“Sure is.”

Usually, Lucifer wouldn’t be the one directly handling the transactions of businesses he owned, and was rare for his top three associates to get together; New Orleans was under Val’s eye, Velvet oversaw next-door Jackson in Mississippi, and Vox was a little further all the way in San Francisco in California. But since tonight had allowed them to gather, might as well kill two birds with one stone.

But that didn’t mean Lucifer was keen on prolonging the reunion and _beat his gums_ with them. He had a long night, and there was no better way he wanted to end his birthday on a good note than a good lay-in with his lovely Lilith, who was no doubt waiting for him in bed for his last ‘present’.

Needless to say, he was glad that things seemed to be wrapping up now, and it was with a slight impatience that he told them, “Well if there’s nothing else to bring up, I’d say we’re about done for tonight.”

Lucifer simply waved them to the door and busied himself with getting out a cigarette to have a last smoke before retiring for the night. But as he busied himself with lighting his stick, there was a look exchanged between his three associates that brought forward a question that’s been hanging over them throughout the night.

“Excuse me for askin’, boss, but about that guy…”

Lucifer didn’t have to ask who ‘that guy’ meant. “What about him?”

The indifference in his tone must have thrown Valentino off, and uncertainty came to his features as he scratched the back of his hand. “Well… you do know who he is, don’t ya?”

Before Lucifer could even answer, Velvet had chipped in then, as though to enlighten on the conversation. “Alastor Carlon! Famous radio host of New Orleans!” she chirped with excitable jollity, almost bouncing in her seat. “And probably the most dashing fella in all of the South!”

No further attention was paid to Velvet’s fawning, and Valentino continued his side of the conversation. “Uh… Yeah. Point is that he isn’t really any regular _cat_ , you see. Reputation and all, nearly everyone in N’awlins knows who he is.”

A scoff was heard from behind him, and Vox lazily shook the ice in his empty tumbler with a grimace. “Well, I never heard of him. Don’t think he’s such a big hoo-ha, that radio fucker.”

“That’s probably ‘cause you’re too busy getting a silly ‘picture show box’ going in ‘Frisco to be able to enjoy get good radio in the South!” Velvet teased with a childish glee, which only made Vox sneer in displeasure.

“Wanna run shit out your _yap_ like that bastard?” he half-growled.

Sticking out her tongue, she taunted back with an unfazed smile, “At least the shit that comes out his _yap_ sounds like smooth gold!”

“Ay, _close your heads_ , why don’cha?” Val shouted in annoyance. “I’m talkin’ here!”

It wasn’t the loud command from Valentino but the silent glare of irritation from Lucifer that shut the both of them up, when silence returned to the room, Val continued where the conversation had left off. “So… Yeah, boss. What’s this about bringing on Alastor Carlon?”

Over his smoking, Lucifer pondered, but not so intently as he had already made his decision. He supposed he could tell them, but Lucifer knew the matter to be too fragile to reveal to anyone. After the night’s discovery – an unpleasant ‘birthday surprise’, if he would consider it that – he realised no doubt the situation had become much more complicated upon knowing that his dear daughter unwittingly gotten herself involved with the wrong person. Considering that he had witnessed his impressive ‘skills’ for himself, the smiling man’s relationship with Charlie was definitely a cause of concern for him, and as much as he was keen to see how this would turn out, he would have to tread carefully.

For now, Lucifer would be keeping this situation strictly between himself and Alastor Carlon. They’ll know in due time, but just not now.

Besides, it wouldn’t be much of a hassle on his end. Lucifer wasn’t the type to disclose the reasons behind his actions much, and that’s what kept all his underlings on their toes; the inability to expect his next move, to know what he was plotting. How in his unpredictability, there lay a dangerous intention.

One that he hid exceptionally well behind a toothy grin.

“I have my reasons, of course.”

And he would leave it at that, with the finality in his tone ceasing any further questions.

Knowing that their presence was no longer needed, the three of them wrapped up their final bits of business with the big boss before they started to make their move. Velvet continued to tease Vox who only responded with silent glares, and Val was started to get aggravated at their slight bickering. They left Lucifer to smoke in earnest knowing he would call on them again if he was in need of their services.

But for now…

“Hey, Val?”

Valentino had been the last to leave and promptly turned around back to his boss.

Lucifer exhaled a stream of smoke, before strictly instructing, “Keep me posted if anything ‘interesting’ happens around town.”

* * *

There was a softness that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He’d been so used to waking up on his hard bed – good for an upright posture! – that this seemed foreign to him. But it felt welcoming and soothing, quite tempting for him to push his face further into the pillow, breathing in the scent of lovely sweet perfume.

…

Perfume?

Immediately his eyes flew open, and Alastor took one quick look around his unfamiliar surroundings, realising quickly that that wasn’t his ceilings or his walls or his curtains. That this wasn’t his room.

And that this was certainly not his bed.

But before he could rile himself up in the confusion, he was immediately stopped short when he realised that he was not alone, and the sight of the back of a head of blonde curls and a smooth pale naked back had stunned him into stillness.

All heaviness of sleep immediately disappeared as Alastor’s attentions came to, and he started to remember just where he was. Also, he realised just as quickly that he was absolutely stark naked, and there was no doubt that Charlie was too.

Not taking his eyes off of her, Alastor sat up slowly, but even that careful movement brought about a mild pounding from the inside of his head that was a good mix of vertigo and the effects of a hangover. He had definitely been _half-screwed_ at best with how much he had _put down_ throughout the night, and the pounding was only going to get worse if he moved, and so he simply sat there in silence.

And in the collection of his messy thoughts, his eyes started to roam over every bit of Charlie that wasn’t covered by sheets. Her messy locks of sunshine, the slender curve of her shoulder, the way her back rose and fell gentle with each quiet inhale of sleeping breaths. 

In that languor, it all started to fill Alastor’s mind; every single emotion and sensation that he had experienced at its peak. It was a lot to take in for a minute, and he continued to sit in the silence, feeling a bit at a loss now.

By no means had he intended for last night to be led on that far, but it had, and if it hadn’t been the most serendipitous thing that he had done, he wasn’t sure what could. Alastor couldn’t quite explain it, but there was just something about Charlie that brought it to a whole new level, and it wasn’t just because of that emotionally-charged serenade. It extended to much more than that - the way her soft lips could steal his breath away, how her touch sent his skin prickling in pleasure, how the scent of her skin had permeated into his skin and filled his senses with a headiness that had his mind being lost in euphoria.

At the remembrance of the moment, he reminisced how nothing had fuelled his core with a pang of burning desire than the sight of how sweet Charlie had looked stripped completely bare, lying on a spread of messy sheets, pretty doe eyes looking at him so lustful and inviting and vulnerable…

And despite the exhilaration that she gave him last night, that one reminder in his thought while he gazed at her now only made him remember one thing.

There was no other high that he could ever indulge in than one from a kill.

Desire struck at that moment, but a different sort of desire. That familiar hunger at the priming of a _pop_ waiting to be committed by his hands. And this time, the moment just seemed all too perfect. Alastor simply could not believe just how easy Charlie had made it all for him. She had let him into her house. She had let him into her room. She had let him into her bed! And here she was, lying comfortably beside him, completely unaware and unsuspecting of just how unguarded she was that it almost seemed that she was giving him permission to do just whatever the hell he wanted!

A rush overwhelmed Alastor then; a rush of adrenaline and craving that was so unlike what he had experienced last night, yet still sending his heart pumping with want.

Without hesitation, he brought a hand to brush past curls to rest on the back of her neck, and he savoured in the feel of soft and smooth skin as he fitted his palm on her neck. It was so slender that he knew it wouldn’t take him too much force to snap it just like that.

But no, snapping was just too quick. No, this kill would be much too precious and needed to be savoured very gently. He needed to draw out that sort of excitement for himself to be able to properly experience the exhilaration of merciless brutality. He wanted to slowly squeeze the life out of her, to have her awaken in a flurry of fear and panic, to lose her last chance of survival to incapability that can only be faulted by her own decision to let him in.

He needed just a few seconds.

But a few seconds was enough time for Charlie to shift in her sleep.

At the sound of a sudden inhale of breath, Alastor froze with his hand still on her neck, and he could only watch as her head turned on her pillows, her blonde curls moving to show a glimpse of her still slumbering face.

Right there, there was something about her face that had his eyes locked. Even with his hand on her neck, she did not stir, continuing to breathe quietly, eyes remaining closed in undisturbed slumber.

And Alastor could only watch her as his mind began to fill with various thoughts.

Of how she looked so innocent and angel-like.

How she looked so peaceful.

How she was so beautiful…

How she was so lovely…

…

_…Fuck._

This…

What was he doing?

 _…No_ …

What the hell did he just do?

He had the chance yesterday.

He had her eyes on him, with her lying down bare and presented on soft white sheets, looking so insatiably delicious.

He had his hand on her slim neck, caressing the sensitive flesh and feeling the warmth of her jugular.

But why did he take her body instead of her life?

Why did he allow himself to succumb to her as if he was so damn weak?

And why the **fuck** did he not have the heart to even think of laying a hand on her again?!

There was an immediate sickening lurch to Alastor’s stomach, and his hand trembled as he took it away from her neck. Her slumbering face showed no signs of waking up still, but the more he looked at her, the more his mind started reeling in bouts of confusion, panic and anger, and putting it together with the now pounding hangover headache, this was just too much for him to fathom.

He needed to leave right now.

It took every bit of control in Alastor to quietly slip out of her bed and stand on legs that still felt wobbly from all the _hookers_ he had and their ‘conjugal activity’ in the night. He pointedly ignored the pounding headache and just focused on getting his boxers off the floor and on him to make himself decent. His trousers were a trickier one with the belt, and he had to force patience onto himself to put it on while casting a few looks to Charlie to make sure she was not awoken.

As the seconds ticked by, the unsavoury thoughts in his mind grew. The tension in the room was now getting too high for his taste, and he knew that he needed to get out of there at this very moment. Once he had his socks and shoes on, he grabbed his shirt and decided that he shouldn’t waste time putting it on here. He took a look around to make sure he wasn’t missing anything else, but if he did, it did not cross his mind as he was now too busy with making his way immediately to the door.

But just as he managed to crack it open without so much of a creak, the rustling of sheets sounded.

It was just a damn sound, but how did it have so much influence on him now to make him stop there, hesitating, and unable to find it in himself to not take one more look at the sleeping beauty in bed.

Except for that slight movement of the sheets, she still had not stirred once since he had gotten up, still breathing quietly in her slumber, all peaceful and content.

And for that moment, he seemed to be stunned once more, unable to take his eyes off her, taking in her pretty face and messy blonde locks and the curve of her smooth pale shoulders and back, and thinking of how she was such a vision that it somehow made his heart skip a bit.

And his gut wrenched once again with the reminder that he should have been staring at her, not in a beautiful mess of white sheets, but coated haphazardly in wet red.

With that in mind to break him out of his stupor, Alastor tore his eyes away from the scene, forcing himself to not take even one more look as he exited the room, closing the door quietly in his wake.

Buttoning up his shirt, his steps were rushed but muted as he made his way down the stairs, and upon seeing the door his gut twisted again as the memory of pressing her up against the door flood his thoughts, and yet he felt relieved that the way out was right there.

But as he got to the foot of the stairs, he tripped.

Goodness gracious, just how addled was he that he’s even tripping in his step?!

He had to bite his lip to stop the growl of anger that was threatening to break through him as his head snapped to the accursed thing on the floor, which turned out to be his suit jacket. Seeing it there, he remembered that it had been on her shoulders before they ascended into her room. He picked it up, and the scent of her perfume that had been permeated into the fabric wafted to his nose, filling him with the need to curse at that sickeningly intoxicating scent.

But then something loose came free of his jacket and landed at his feet. The glimmer of shine was what caught his attention, but he certainly wished that it hadn’t when he laid his eyes on that golden card with the lone crimson red apple.

If Alastor’s gut hasn’t been sinking enough, it had to drop rock-bottom at the realisation that he did probably the most damning thing he could do with the current situation he had found himself in last night.

He had just had sex with the Big Apple’s one and only daughter.

It was still early enough that most of the neighbourhood wasn’t up and about at this time, which allowed him a safe passage to walk away from her front porch back to his house without the wandering eyes of _clotheslines_ to make guesses at what scandalous things he had done in the house of the pretty blonde, but he wasn’t taking any chances and rushed in his steps to make it to his front door, and he couldn’t have been any quicker to get inside.

Within the refuge of his house, Alastor began to feel a sort of calmness setting in from being in a familiar safe space. Standing in the hallway, he forced himself to breathe slow and steady, trying not to think too much that he had just fucked the daughter of his most biggest adversary at the moment. And as he did, he was starting to feel more aware of how hot his body was, almost like it was running a fever. He wasn’t sure if it was the culmination of emotions that were running high at the moment, or just the thought that he had committed the biggest form of payback to the bastard for pointing a gun at his face.

But to the latter, it dawned on realisation that he was filthy.

Yes, he was downright filthy.

The first action decided, Alastor climbed up the stairs and headed to his bathroom. He shed his clothes so quickly that he wouldn’t be surprised if he could have might possibly ripped them, and foregoing his usual habit of putting them away right into the laundry basket, he uncaringly dumped it onto the floor of his bathroom, not paying mind to it and deciding to handle that once he’s washed himself up.

Cold water sprayed onto him and sent a chill right to his bones, but Alastor welcomed the feel of it spraying away the heat he felt throughout himself. With his eyes closed, he focused on nothing but the pitter-pattering of water drops on his entire form, plastering his hair to his head and washing away the grime and stickiness that had coated his body in the night.

But it had probably not been a good idea for him to have his eyes closed, because the imagery that’s been haunting him from her house started to appear again on his closed lids. Echoes so graphic and clear as fresh as the memory was. Images of Charlie’s lovely face in ecstasy, the flush of her pale skin from the coursing of blood through her, the sweetness of her lips when he captured her rosebuds for a taste, her warmth enveloping him and drowning him in pleasure…

Disgust once more afflicted Alastor with much powerful rigour, and when his eyes flew open, it was with an unmistakeable shock to discover that he had actually gone hard.

He didn’t know what came over him then, but so disturbed by both disgust and dread was he that in a bid to not see those images for even just a moment, an impulse caused him to suddenly slam a tightly-clenched fist onto the tiled wall. The pain that came from the impact felt so unpleasant, and he knew that his hand was starting to throb, and yet it felt so deserving in the moment, to remind him of that unforgivable mistake that he had committed to himself.

And it was within that painful awareness that Alastor realised he didn’t know what to do now.

* * *

Half-within the rousing from sleep, Charlie slowly blinked her eyes open as she stretched her arms out, groaning tiredly as her body slowly started waking up. But upon feeling the space beside her, her eyes opened wide, and she rose her head from the pillow upon realising that it was empty.

“…Alastor?...”

There was no answer. Sitting up, Charlie looked around the room to realise that she was the only one in it. A quick look to the floor and she realised that his clothes were missing, and that determined her what she had already begun to suspect.

“…Oh…”

A disappointment started to set in on her. With a sigh, she sat up and ran her fingers through her messy hair, waiting for some seconds for her mind and body to adjust to waking up and for her thoughts to come into order, but she was distracted when memories of last night started to appear.

Goodness… Last night truly had been a whirlwind. How did something as simple as attending her father’s birthday party lead to her singing her heart out at a speakeasy, and somehow it brought her kissing him and bringing him to her bed? She did not think that she would have been able to get all the way with her crush.

But clearly, she shouldn’t be too exuberant now, seeing as how it seemed that he had _bloused_ on her.

The dreadful thought of that made Charlie’s throat feel tight with a lurching of her stomach. She supposed some water would help to push it down, and so she turned to her bedside table to find the usual glass of water that she would prepare for herself.

It was only then that she realised she hadn’t last night, but all thought of that was forgotten when she saw what was there in its place.

Alastor’s monocle.

With gentle hands, she took it and cradled in her palm, her finger feeling the smooth glass. It was such a weird thing, this monocle. It made her laugh a bit at how she thought it looked quite funny on him, yet she still had thought him to look so very dashing last night.

She supposed she will have to return it to him soon, but maybe not now.

For now, Charlie simply wanted to regain back her composure from everything that had happened, trying to push away the despondency at how this certainly hadn’t ended the way she thought it would.

* * *

The phone was ringing.

Usually, it was the duty of the butlers to answer the phone, but seeing as how nearly all of them were still busy cleaning up after the tremendous party last night and Lilith was the one closest to it as it rang, there was no harm done if she did.

It rang a few more times as the mistress of the house sauntered over to it. It was quite a bothersome sound for this time of hour; who exactly would be calling this early in the morning?

“Hello? Magne residence.”

There had been a pause on the other end, and suddenly came a rushed, “ ** _Um… Hello, Madam. It’s Vagatha._** ”

Lilith’s eyes lit up at the familiar voice. “Oh, Vaggie!” she greeted kindly. “I haven’t heard from you in a while! How have you been?”

“ ** _I’m well, thank you for asking._** ” The girl sounded shy yet respectful to her employer, as she always was. “ ** _And I hope you are well too?_** ”

“Just peachy!” Lilith replied cheerily. “A little tired, though. The party we’ve had last night was such an affair! It’s amazing that I’m still able to be up at this time!”

“ ** _I’m glad to hear that the party was fun, ma’am._** ”

“Oh, it definitely was! So, what brings you calling in? Anything important?”

“ ** _No, not really! I just wanted to ask to talk to Charlie._** ”

Lilith’s pep came to an immediate pause to reflect her confusion at the question. “Charlie? Why would she be here?” she pondered out loud. “Isn’t she at home?”

But it seemed that she wasn’t the only one confused. “ ** _I’m sorry?_** ” Vaggie replied with uncertainty.

“Isn’t Charlie at home?" Lilith repeated. “She headed back last night. Didn’t you see her?”

“ ** _Um… I’m not in New Orleans at the moment_** ,” Vaggie informed her mistress. “ ** _I’m in California visiting family._** ”

Now that was certainly surprising for Lilith to hear. “Oh, I see! Charlie didn’t mention anything about that.”

Then again, there wasn’t a reason to, in the first place. Vaggie was Charlie’s maid, so whatever she did was out of Lilith’s knowledge. But still, it was quite a confusing matter that the girl would call the family home to ask about her mistress that should have been at home.

Even more confusing that it seemed that she didn’t know what was going on.

“ ** _Ma’am, you said Charlie went home last night?_** ” Vaggie questioned.

“Yes, she did.”

“ _ **Oh, that’s strange… She didn’t tell me she would be leaving Baton Rouge early.”**_

Hearing that last bit only made Lilith’s confusion grow. “What do you mean?”

There was a long pause following Lilith’s answer, and it was a few seconds later that Vaggie answered, “ ** _She told me she’s staying in Baton Rouge while I’m gone._** ”

Charlie was supposed to be staying in Baton Rouge? Her daughter had definitely did not make any mention of such a plan before last night.

Now, this was definitely getting strange.

“No, Charlie didn’t come back to stay here,” Lilith clarified. “She didn’t tell me that she was. She came just for the party and left afterwards.”

Then followed a much longer pause, and Lilith only waited patiently for an answer from the maid. But in the silence that hung between them through the call, she wasn’t aware of what must be running through the girl’s mind all the way in California, but for some reason, it didn’t feel to be anything good.

And her presumption seemed to be correct because when Vaggie spoke again, she sounded almost like she was forcing the question out with much difficulty.

“ ** _… Ma’am… Who was she with to the party?_** ”

Lilith’s reply came swift and easy.

“Her friend, Alastor.”

She couldn’t put her finger on it, but for some reason, Lilith could feel such a heavy tension that came with yet another pregnant silence followed by her answer. Now, this was just getting quite worrying, and the oddity centering around the topic of Charlie only added more to the suspense that Lilith’s tone took a more serious turn as she asked, “Vaggie? Is there something that I should know?”

The silence continued, and Lilith had to prompt the girl’s name again to make sure that she was still there. No response came, but she could feel just the shuddering of a strained inhale of breath on the other end.

Alas, Vaggie’s voice soon returned to the receiver, but it was easily noted that she sounded weary than when they had first spoken. “ ** _Nothing, ma’am. It’s nothing important._** ” Her answer sounded false, not easily believable with the tone of her voice, and it only just sounded even more so when she suddenly said quickly, “ ** _I’m really sorry, but I need to go. Have a nice day, ma’am._** ”

The sudden jump in the conversation made Lilith’s eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, of course,” she said gently. “Have a nice day too, Vaggie.”

It was Vaggie who hung up first, like she was in a panic, and Lilith only put down the phone with her mind still trying to wrap her head around the bizarre conversation, so many questions still lingering that were left without an answer.

She hadn’t noticed that her husband had been standing quietly nearby and eavesdropping on the conversation. “Vaggie?”

Lilith nodded with furrowed brows. “She told me the most strangest thing, darling. Apparently, she thought Charlie was going to stay with us for the week?”

“Oh?” Lucifer looked just as confused as his wife. “Did she say anything about that before she came home?”

“No,” Lilith affirmed with a definite shake of her head. “She didn’t tell me anything. But it looks like that’s what she told Vaggie?”

Things seemed to be getting somewhat suspicious, and the Magnes couldn’t help but wonder why, making Lucifer cock a brow curiously, and prompting Lilith to wonder out loud, “Are we missing something here?”

Lucifer did not reply immediately, his eyes too starting to look confused at this piece of information. But he was quick to brush it off with a shrug of his shoulders. “Seems like we are, darling. I haven’t a clue at all.”

And yes, he didn’t have a clue, which only unnerved him as he wondered if there was something more going on between his precious daughter and the dubious smiling man that she had chosen to associate herself with.

_Oh, darling sweet apple… Just what are you doing with Alastor Carlon?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have given all of you the fluff and the lemon, but enjoyment time is over, my darlings!
> 
> And looks like it couldn't have been more over for Alastor. What's the panic, my dear smiling man? What's thrown you off so much that you can't seem to do what you've had your heart set on? And what would poor Charlie think, seeing that you just left without a word?
> 
> This arc probably going to be most complex in the story, and I'm hyping myself up for it! I can only hope you're as ready as I am, darling readers, because thing's are NOT gonna be looking so pretty!
> 
> But you know what's pretty though? The absolutely amazing fanart that I've received from my darling followers on Twitters! Swear to God, these beautiful creations just lift my spirits as high as they my voice when I cry from the amount of love all of you have for my story. Everything's so beautiful, so thank you HAHno (@HAHno02427127), Rotty (@rotty_baka), Danie (@eve_danie), Gracie (@realfantasicz) and Nancy (@Nancyplus100) !
> 
> Wanna give a shout-out to my Chaotic Wallsexual crew on Twitter because we've been stirring up so much shit on Twitter that people are just scrambling to find out where all these sudden importance of WALLS are coming up! You guys are insane and honestly I don't think I'd have it any other way! 
> 
> 1920s slangs:
> 
> Out on the roof – To drink a lot, to be drunk  
> Can House – Bordello  
> Beat his gums – Engage in idle chatter  
> Yap – Mouth  
> Close your heads – Shut up  
> Half-screwed – Somewhat drunk  
> Put down - Drink  
> Pop – Kill  
> Hookers – Drinks  
> Clotheslines – Neighbourhood gossips


	30. Down in the Mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

It’s been days since she’s last seen Alastor.

And at this point, Charlie was pretty sure that he was avoiding her.

The first couple of days after that night, she had gone to his house and knocked on the door, waiting for him to answer and then expecting that she would see his bright smiling face, and it might all be better again. 

But it hadn’t been the case.

When the seconds would turn into minutes, there still wouldn’t be a reply, and with a heavy heart, she would leave, not wanting to look like some _mustard plaster_ lingering on his porch. And she was shameful to think about how she had been doing this quite a number of times, somehow managing to convince herself that she probably came at a time when he wasn’t home or he was probably taking a nap to not hear her knocks on the door.

But after the third day, then came the realisation that sunk in that Alastor might be intentionally not coming to the door.

And today marked the sixth day in a row, and after another failed attempt that very morning, Charlie was now sitting alone at the dining table, disquiet in her silence as the thoughts filled her head and make her feel all helpless in a profusion of anxiety, causing her to just absentmindedly finger the monocle that was in her hand.

That had been the purpose of her visits to his house, or at least, what she used as a valid excuse to do so. He had left it behind, and it was only right that she returned it to him, and each time he did not answer the door, the next time she would convince herself to try again. However, it only frustrated her even more that Alastor didn’t even seem to realise that it was gone and hadn’t come over to ask for it back – she tried hard to not think again that he was probably doing it on purpose.

It was even more difficult since she had to have a single reminder in her hand that she couldn’t get rid of as of yet.

It was only with the chiming of the clock that finally broke her out of her daze, showing to her that it was near one in the afternoon, and reminding her that she needed to hurry to the train station.

Vaggie was coming home today.

With a refusal to spend another minute moping around, she pushed away all those bothersome thoughts to the far corners of her mind as she busied herself with getting ready to go, leaving the house with a somewhat clear conscience and absent of any thought of what she could have possibly left behind.

* * *

“So… He just _took it on the heel and toe_?”

Charlie sighed for what must be the umpteenth time today as she nodded her head.

She hadn’t been sure if it was a good idea to tell Angel Dust about it, but it’s been bothering her so terribly that her chest was starting to feel tight the longer she kept it in, and she needed to express it to someone who knew, which was just him. Besides, it was the first thing he had asked her about when she had picked him up from the hotel, and he already kind of guessed from the look on her face that she had a lot to let out.

So, all the way from the hotel to the bench they were now sitting on outside the New Orleans Union Station, he listened. Angel had been a good listener, at least, keeping mostly quiet as she rambled on, filtering through all the messy thoughts in her mind to recollect the events of that night. She had been mindful to leave out the part about the speakeasy, remembering the promise that she had made to Alastor to not tell on him or his friends. So, she skipped over that part entirely and just went ahead to the part that had Angel on edge the whole time. He had squealed excitedly at the fact that they had slept together, something that he had considered the result of a ‘successful date’, but then he realised a little too late that he probably should have kept his mouth shut about it when she revealed to him what had happened afterwards.

“He left, and since then, I haven’t seen him once.”

That clearly wasn’t the sort of ending to a date that Angel had hoped for, telling from the way he was cocking his head curiously yet with hesitance from his slip-up.

“But, you two live next-door. How can you not have seen him?”

And that statement of the fact only made Charlie feel heavy-hearted once more. “I just… don’t.” The answer sounded really sad, and it was. “I’ve gone to his house many times, but it just seems like he isn’t home. Or if he is, he’s just not answering me.”

Charlie exhaled breath in an effort to not potentially break into tears again at the thought. Leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, she just blankly looked ahead at the crowd around the New Orleans Union Station, bemoaning to herself, “The only form of ‘contact’ I’ve had with him since was just hearing him on the radio. And the thing is, he sounded… normal?”

There were times when she had tried to force herself to do otherwise, but that disturbing desperation of sorts had Charlie tuning in almost every day just to hear Alastor on his talk show. Well, it had at least given her the reassurance that he was alive and well and hadn’t actually _lammed off_ from New Orleans, but it still probably was not the best of ideas – aside from constantly showing up to his door, that is. Like she had expected, it only made her feel worse at hearing him sound as cheery and lively as he always did, almost as if like he was going on with his days with no qualms or concerns about anything. Without a doubt, it hurt her, because there he seemed to be _hitting on all eight_ , and then there was her.

It just wasn’t fair.

Angel started to gently pat her back in reassurance. “Hey, you can’t put a lot of confidence on that. He’s a radio host. He has to keep an act up for the audience, ya know? For entertainment and all.”

Angel did have a point, though a certain bit he had said was the only thing that had caught her attention.

“But do you think it could be that?”

“Could be what?”

“An act?”

 _Damn… The doll’s taking it_ that _bad…_ Angel thought in pitiful concern. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure what would be the right thing to tell her to make her feel better. He wasn’t good at these things, even with his expansive knowledge of romance, or any semblance of it. He couldn’t recall Molly ever taking break-ups this bad, but then again, his twin sister was the _figlia_ of the mafia, raised to have nerves of steel that it would take more than a sleaze to put her in a rut. But Charlie wasn’t and was definitely a _milquetoast_ when it came to these, so it was putting him at a loss.

“Sheesh, I dunno, toots,” he said uncertainly, scratching the back of his head. “Men are flaky like that. You never know why they do the things they do.”

Clearly not what Charlie had been hoping to hear, and she didn’t know how to respond to that bleak answer, which led to an almost unsettling silence between the two, filled only by the sounds of trains that were in the air.

It’ll only be a matter of time before the train bringing their friend would arrive, and Charlie was counting down the minutes until Vaggie would finally come back home. There was an eagerness in her to have her best friend back, since the house had been particularly lonely without her company around, and she wanted more than nothing now to welcome her presence back to break the forlorn silence.

But of course, her mind didn’t seem likely to want to give her a break anytime soon, and like all other thoughts that have been plaguing her since, Charlie thought back to that one night when she wasn’t alone, but clearly that wouldn’t have counted.

And what Angel said only justified quandary.

“So, how am I ever going to find out, Angel?”

“Well, worse comes to worst, I’d say you’d have to corner him.”

Okay, that was definitely something that she was not willing to do. “Absolutely not!” she protested, shaking her head adamantly. “That would only make things worse! I don’t want to _tighten the screws_ on him. What if he only ignores me more?”

To that, Angel merely shrugged, giving her a stumped look as he told her, “Then looks like you got no choice but to wait it out and see if he comes to you.”

He was saying it as if she hadn’t already been doing that, and that seemed just as unhelpful as the first. Okay, so maybe she had been in the wrong to think that Angel could think of some good advice that could work for her because now it only did nothing to enlighten her from the slump.

And Angel seemed to be aware of what she was thinking, because he added on, “Listen, babe, in all my experiences, I’ll be as solid as a rock to tell you that it ain’t worth it to worry yourself over some _boob_ who’s treating you like some _hangover montage_.”

As if there hadn’t been enough horrible ideas that have been disturbing Charlie for the last few days, that one immediately took the cake, the thought of it stinging so badly that it sent a very painful ache to her heart as dread started to fill her.

“But… this is Alastor.” Her voice was weak with disbelief. “I don’t think he’s the type.”

Angel pursed his lips with the cock of a sceptical brow. “If he isn’t, then why would he leave?”

As if that wasn’t already a question that’s been disconcerting her since that night – the night that she couldn’t stop herself from reminiscing, but was now coming to slowly regret.

Her mind had been filled with thoughts of what exactly had gone wrong, and getting even more into the specifics to figure out where she was at fault. The number one plausible explanation it could have been possible been was that she might have took it too far with him. He didn’t like being touched, and obviously, they had done much more than simply touching. It didn’t help the fact than they had both admittedly been quite inebriated, and while they did not seem to have _gone over the edge with the rams_ to not be aware of what was happening, she probably should have listened to the reasonings of her conscience from that night to know any better.

But then again, there had been so many things from that night that had been haunting her. Seeing the look of panic on Alastor’s face in the dimness of the room, that was an image that’s been sticking out like a sore thumb in the flurry of thoughts. For certain, that was quite something to see him react in such a manner, much like that incident at the fortune teller’s.

It had almost like it had been… afraid?

But if he was; of what, then? What could have suddenly triggered him to panic? Was it because of the touching? Or was it something else?

And on top of that, what of the scars that had marked his entire torso? She may have not been able to see them clearly, but she remembered how pronounced they felt. How had they gotten there? Just why were there so many? What could someone as polished and genteel as Alastor have done to attain those unsightly marks that mar his body? 

It was all too frustrating, how the questions kept piling on and on and doing nothing but unsettle her already distressed psyche. It all got too much, making her mind start to wander too far, but no doubt, what weighed the heaviest was the thought of what could have been going through his head that made him _give himself the gate_ in such a rush, and decide to seemingly disappear from her.

Just… Just why?

Why did he just leave like that?

Why did he just leave her after what had happened between them?

Why did he do all of that and made her feel something for him, only to just up and leave her like that?

There was no way this could just be some ploy to lead her on just to do something to her…

… Could it?

With how all these questions just kept on adding and yet there was nothing that was adding up, it overwhelmed Charlie immensely and started a prickling in her eyes that signified the coming of tears. Leaned forward to hang her head further, her fingers came up to weave into her hair in some bid to get a grip on herself, but her lips were starting to quiver and her fingers were absentmindedly gripping her hair so hard that she could potentially tear them off, the turmoil from within starting to take over.

The silence from Angel halted immediately as he suddenly got on edge watching her, promptly reached out to grab her shoulders and pulling her to sit back upright.

“Okay, okay. Relax,” he urged her with a _brace_. “ 'Keep your head up high and your ego higher.’ That’s what I told you, remember?”

Charlie’s better judgement broke through the jumble that was her mind to tell her that now was just not the right place and the right time to get herself all riled up again, and Angel’s words of comfort seemed to do just the trick to help ease back into composure. Yes, he was right. ‘Keep your head up high and your ego higher’. That was what he told her, and she focused on those words like it was some sort of mantra to block out any of the bothersome thoughts.

Angel’s voice turned more comforting as he assured, “Let’s just give him the benefit of the doubt, alright? Just wait it out a while longer, and see what happens. If he shows, that’s settled. And if he doesn’t, then…”

Before Angel could think of the nicest way to put it, Charlie already finished his sentence with a despondent, “I’ll… figure out what to do then.”

As half-hearted as it sounded, it was the best sort of closure she could give herself, and it would have to do for now.

“ _And howl_!” he comforted with a pat back on her back. “Now, less downer topics aside, can I just say how completely bamboozled I am that you actually went ahead _pitching woo_ with him without protection?!”

The change in Charlie was almost comical, with the way her head whipped to him with eyes all abash and wide with both brows shot up. “Angel?!” she cried out horrified, a blush starting to rise from the neck up. How could he think that it was a good idea to talk about this in public?!

But Angel being Angel, he didn’t seem to give a damn and just carried on, unable to hold back the laugh at the look on her face, a grin full of cheek as he remarked, “I mean, I don’t take ya for a _bluenose_ , but I’d thought that you’d be a bit more careful!”

As much as she was outraged, he did bring up a fair point. And yes; that was another thing.

Charlie should have been more careful. Even if Alastor had not spilt inside of her, it had been such a terrifying thought that something could have happened by mistake, and given the current situation, getting _knocked up_ would make things much more dire than it is. She had fretted for the first couple of days after that night, worried if something might have gone wrong, and almost giving herself a heart attack about what she was going to do if there ended up being an accident.

So, to say that she was glad to start bleeding after the fourth day was such an understatement. That had been a huge relief on her end, and at least Fate had been kind to give her that, at least.

“I’ve gotten my period.”

“Well, thank God for that!” Angel made such a big show of wiping imaginary sweat from his brow as he exhaled a huge sigh, before nudging Charlie teasingly with his elbow. “But hey, just make sure you at least got some protection on you before you do any more _barneymugging_ with Smiles, alright?”

Charlie rolled her eyes in her embarrassment, a motion that did not match her still-bothered thoughts.

_… If there ever is a next time…_

“Was he good?”

Oh, goodness…

“…Very…”

Angel cackled aloud with a slap to his knee, making Charlie look away from him with a face burning red. It seemed to go just at the right time, as she began to notice a lot of people were starting to stream out from the station, indicating the arrival of a train to New Orleans.

Before she could wonder if it was the one they were waiting for, then come from among the masses a familiar face looking lost in the crowd, hands wringing the handle of her suitcase as her eyes searched through the multitudes.

Seeing Vaggie seemed to do the trick in somewhat doing away the wearisome thoughts in her head, and there was just that little bubbling of excitement and happiness in her gut at seeing her best friend again. It felt appeasing to know that her presence would quell some of this heavy tension that had lingered in the house, and allowing Charlie to not be so alone with just her thoughts to keep her company.

But speaking of which, she quickly remembered an important something.

“Angel?”

Her expression had spoken enough, and without skipping a beat, Angel returned a subtle knowing look. Even if she hadn’t reminded him about the promise that she had asked for at the dress shop, he would have remembered all the same to not say anything. He may be a crook, but he was never one to break a promise, especially with someone he owed a favour to, like Charlie. And besides, it looked like she would really need some co-operation with how down in the dumps she’d been.

“Yeah, I know.”

With that silent acknowledgement between them, Charlie turned her head back in the direction to Vaggie, and it was almost instantly that their eyes met. And right there, it was like a switch was flicked in her brain. Gone away was the heaviness that clouded Charlie, and up came a conveying of glee as her lips spread into a smile and her eyes were wide and bright as she started to wave excitedly.

“Vaggie!”

Charlie was already off from the bench and rushing towards Vaggie, and in the blink of an eye, she was already wrapping the girl in a huge bear hug.

But in that instant, Charlie already felt that something was off, and she tell just from the way that Vaggie’s arms didn’t immediately raise to return the gesture, like she would usually have done. Instead, she remained still in her hold, and Charlie couldn’t be too sure, but had her body gone somewhat tense so suddenly?

Although, it seemed that she been too quick to question, as it was then that Vaggie hugged her back softly, her voice soft as she muttered, “Hey there, hon. Missed me?”

She sounded tired, and a concern prompted Charlie to pull back to take a good look at her face, finding that Vaggie looked absolutely weary, as if she hadn’t been getting some good night’s sleep.

“Vaggie… Are you okay?”

Vaggie pursed her lips for a moment, and a hesitancy flashed in her eyes before she shut them closed and nodded her head. “Mm-hm. I’m just really tired from the trip.”

Ah, that made sense. Pretty reasonable, considering that California from New Orleans was indeed a long way off, and that’s not counting all the transit that was sure to have been tiresome. She must be so exhausted, the poor doll.

Charlie took Vaggie back into a hug, just as tight as the first, and pressed her face into her long dark hair. “I’m glad you’re well,” she breathed, finding herself falling back into ease at the familiar feeling of her best friend. “I’ve missed you so much.”

The girls remained hugging each other just as Angel finally caught up to them. “Hey there, _bearcat_ ,” he greeted Vaggie aloud. “How’s California?”

“It was fine,” Vaggie muttered. “Nothing much.”

“Nothing much? Damn, were you as boring there as you are here?”

Usually, an insult or a curse in Spanish from Vaggie was to be expected as a response to one of Angel’s mean remarks, but that hadn’t been the case now when she simply grumbled and gave him a glare, remaining completely silent, which seemed to surprise Angel into being quiet because he didn’t know how else to continue on.

 _She must really be exhausted…_ Charlie thought to herself worriedly as she released her from her hug. “Hey, I’m pretty sure you must be starving from your trip? Would you like to grab some lunch first before heading home?”

There wasn’t any resistance from Vaggie on the idea, although her reply had been just a plain ‘Alright’.

* * *

Charlie and Angel weren’t blind to the fact that something was up with Vaggie.

She had been quiet, and any response to their questions was quite brief and uninterested like she didn’t have it in her to hold a conversation with them. When prompted about it, all she replied was the same answer of being tired from the journey home, and then falling back into silence once more.

Yet, it uneased Charlie, having not envisioned that their reunion would be as deadpanned as it was. Even Angel was starting to feel like an awkward third wheel and was starting to question why he’d agree to tag along, knowing how could be quite the killjoy. But still, they stuck it out and tried to converse with her as normal, as best as they could try.

It probably hadn’t been a good idea to suggest having lunch first when Vaggie was still exhausted, seeing as how she barely had even touched her food, and it was only a relief that they were now on the way back to Charlie’s in the _hack_. The silence continued in the vehicle but this time neither Charlie nor Angel forced any words out, leaving Vaggie alone to quietly to gaze out the window.

Charlie forced herself to not let her eyes wander to the house next door when they’ve finally arrived at her place. It was also the first time Angel had been over to their neighbourhood, and she had noticed the way his eyes took a side glance to Alastor’s, but she did not acknowledge, both for her own sake and for the sake of Vaggie’s, who she continued to fuss over.

“You should go on up to your room and get some rest, babe. I’ll help you with your bag!”

Vaggie smiled a small smile – one of the few that she’s graced them since returning. “Thanks, hon… I’ll grab a glass of water first before I head up.”

Vaggie was already heading to the kitchen before Charlie could say anything, leaving her in the foyer with Angel and her suitcase. Well, she would let her to it then, and she’d make do on her promise with her bag. But Angel started to tut just as her hand touched the handle, shaking his head as his hand placed itself on the handle too.

“Don’t worry about this, doll. I’ll take care of it.” His insistence was followed with a quick glance to the direction that Vaggie had gone into, making sure that she was out of sight to not see him whisper, “You go ahead and ask about what’s gotten her taco in a twist.”

“Angel,” Charlie scolded sharply under her breath.

He waved her off dismissively as he grabbed Vaggie’s suitcase from her hand. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. So, which room?”

Well, looks like no point reprimanding him on his behaviour for now. “Second door on the right,” she sighed with a shake of her head, getting only a thumbs-up from him before he ascended the stairs, leaving her in the silence of the foyer to busy herself with removing her coat and her hat.

Things were going pretty smooth so far, and with Vaggie around, the house didn’t feel so empty and unwholesome now, which at least finally gave Charlie the peace of mind within her home…

“Charlie.”

There was something about the way she said her name that put her in a standstill. The way it had sounded so dire and sharp, it sent a chill ran down her spine, sending her mind to start going into a sort of alert, reacting immediately in a frenzy that had put her on edge, and she was glad that she was standing away where her face could not be seen, giving her that few seconds of discretion to force some calm to herself.

“Yes, Vaggie?”

Still looking away, Charlie heard footsteps echo through the hallway, sounding like it had come right from the dining room before it came to a stop right behind her.

She realised then why she was internally acting up, although realising already too late when she turned around to face Vaggie.

In her best friend’s hand was Alastor’s monocle.

“What is this?” Vaggie questioned, although something in her voice gave an indication that she already knew.

Charlie’s throat was starting to feel tight, unable to smoothly voice out the many reasons that were piling up on her tongue for her to say in a farce. The only thing that she could think of was of how stupid she had been to completely forget about Alastor’s monocle on the dining table, and how in a flash, her attempts to keep this long secret from Vaggie was out of the bag.

“… I…”

Charle was probably – no, definitely – not doing a good job at hiding herself now, too dumbfounded by fear and unable to anticipate what was to come next, unable to do anything else except to dart her eyes between Vaggie’s face and the monocle.

And it was then that her friend’s expression started to change, becoming the most expressive that she had been since they saw each other, the blankness in her façade from being silent and awaiting an explanation starting to disappear upon hearing Charlie’s measly little croak.

“… Really?...” she muttered, dejected and saddened – a clear sign of the feeling of betrayal. “…You’re still going to try and lie to me?...”

Charlie could feel herself starting to crack, her façade slipping off her so quickly that there was no point to continue putting up an act now. Still, she said nothing, unable to find her voice and now feeling the palpitations on her racing heart in her suddenly dry and aching throat, struggling to maintain her breathing through her panic, feeling akin to a child who got caught by their parent for doing something they weren’t supposed to do, or a criminal that’s been cornered with no place left to run from their _capers_.

As her silence in the tension continued, Vaggie’s agitation alleviated breaking the quiet apprehension that hung between them.

Holding up the monocle with violently shaking fingers, the broken expression of her face shifted as her brows knitted into a pronounced frown, her lips pulling back to show teeth gritted in what looked like a snarl, and her eyes being filled with a sort of anger that was tinged with sadness, snapping with her voice heavy and breaking as she cried out what Charlie did not want to hear.

“ **You think I wouldn’t find out about what you did with Alastor?!** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Charlie hadn’t been having some pretty troubling days, this was definitely going to be the worst one so far!  
> And our dear Mr. Carlon isn't helping her case by playing ghost on her! I wonder where he's been off to? But nevermind that! What of Charlie? How exactly is she going to calm now that Vaggie's caught her in the act?
> 
> Days lately has been quite emotionally-taxing, and this chapter had honestly been a struggle. But thank you darling Royal (@brightmamasun) for helping me out with this and letting me vent, and I hope you're feeling better!  
> But days hasn't been all that bad, being filled with more beautiful fanart from our lovely darlings Hillymine (@HillymineDraws), Deya (@DeyaMela), The Pretty_Winter (@ThePrettyWinte1), IllusiveDesires (@illusivedesires), Lea (@LeaHopeArt) and Hunter B (@hntrgurl13) ! Thank you all so much for your lovely works that has me crying with the feels!
> 
> The Wallsexual cul- religion has been blessed with so much fanart and fanfics, it's insane! And to everyone in the Charlastor Trashbin Discord and the Wallsexuals, thank you for evening up my days with all your wacky antics! 
> 
> We'll get through these trying days as we'll get through this trying next few chapters. So stay safe and take care everyone!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Mustard plaster - Unwelcomed person who sticks around  
> Took it on the heel and toe – Left  
> Lammed off – Ran off from  
> Hitting on all eight – Doing well  
> Milquetoast – Timid, mild person  
> Tighten the screws – Put pressure on somebody  
> Boob – Dumb guy  
> Hangover montage – One-night stand  
> Gone over the edge with the rams – Get far too drunk  
> Give himself the gate - Leave  
> Brace – Shake  
> And howl – You said it  
> Pitching woo – Have sex  
> Bluenose – Prude  
> Knocked up – Pregnant on accident  
> Barneymugging – Have sex  
> Bearcat – Hot-bloody or fiery girl  
> Hack – Taxi  
> Capers - Crimes
> 
> Italian translation:  
> Figlia - Daughter


	31. Caught In The Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

“I called your parents’ house, to check up on how you’re doing. And what did I find out?”

For a split second, Charlie felt a twinge of anger towards herself for being so careless as to not think of the possibility that Vaggie would have called her parents' house, thinking how it would have saved her from such a mess. 

But then her better conscience became more apparent; how dare she still thought like that when the consequences of her actions had now led to this terrible situation? Vaggie's fury was so palpable in the air that Charlie was almost choking on it. If her anger was fire, she would have definitely set the whole house ablaze, and there was no way for Charlie to be able to pacify it, try as she may.

“Vaggie, please… I can explain…”

Vaggie cut her off with a stroke, interrupting with her voice further broken as she forced out her next words. 

“'Explain' what, Charlie? That you **completely** lied to me? That you went behind my back?”

At that moment, the pulled corners of Vaggie's lips started trembling, and it was then the floodgates finally broke and the first tears fell fast and heavy down the flushed-red copper of her cheeks. In her frustration, she wiped it away furiously with the back of her hand, choking back on a cry that was threatening to escape out from her, the pain and sadness of the moment fully overwhelming her senses.

Seeing her best friend in such a state instigated the prickling in her own eyes, and Charlie felt so undeserving to do so, knowing that she was in no right to cry when it was truly her fault for making Vaggie so upset. But she couldn’t stop the tears that had already started pooling and streaming fast down her cheeks, and she was starting to shake as her heart raced and felt like it was breaking from the immense fear and pressure that she could do no else to quell it except to hold herself to try to calm down. 

It was all to no avail, and she could only wish desperately for Vaggie to stop. However, her friend was far from finishing her tirade of fury.

“And to top it all off? You lied to me for **Alastor Carlon**!”

The way she had said his name was coated in venom, spitting it as if the taste of it on her tongue was so unbearably disgusting and doing it at the loudest tone of her rage that it could be heard all the way from the second floor, sending Angel hurrying down the stairs in a rush to the scene to find the Latina all red hot, Charlie clutching herself and both girls completely in a mess of tears.

“Woah, hey!” he yelled out, coming to stand between them and holding his long arms out to keep them at a distance. “ _Break it up_ , will ya! It’s not as if she went and did a crime!”

 _… Oh, no…_ Charlie should have been quick to tell Angel to keep his mouth shut because that little slip-up clearly now had the situation getting worse when Vaggie’s eyes looked to Angel with newfound bewilderment. 

“You got him in on it too?” Vaggie exclaimed in horrified disbelief, staring accusingly at Charlie as she pointed at Angel. 

The continued silence from Charlie gave her the answer, and she threw her arms up in intensified frustration. "I can't believe you! You went all the way just to lie to me?!”

“Well, she wouldn’t need to _cheese it_ if you don't act up like you are now,” Angel told her pointedly, becoming defensive as he gestured to Charlie behind him. “Look, she didn’t mean to, alright? So, what if she wanted to go to a party with Smiles? There isn't anything wrong with that!"

His reasoning didn't sit well with Vaggie at all, uttering a curse at him in spite. "Shut up, you sleaze!" she lashed out. "And to think I would tell you anything! I shouldn't have expected any less from someone like you!"

Vaggie's superfluous behaviour to the situation caused Angel to snap in annoyance, biting back cynically, “Are you still fucking holding on to all that bullshit that he’s going to ‘eat her’ or whatever?! You completely lost your marbles! _Get back on your rocker_ , why don’t you!”

“ **_¡Quédate fuera de esto!_ ** ” Vaggie shouted, her fists clenched and trembling at her sides and looking like it was ready to be thrown for a swift hit, inciting Angel to square up as well to shout back, “ **_Cazzo smetti di urlare!_ **”

“Enough! Both of you!”

Charlie’s sudden loud cry cut off the both of them, but as demanding as she sounded, her demeanour was akin to that of a kicked puppy, looking absolutely distressed in her fear and trepidation.

With feeble hands, she took hold of Angel’s arm and pulled him away. “Angel… Please just step outside…” she instructed him, almost like she was begging him to leave the scene. 

Angel eyed Charlie with a hesitance that showed how he felt quite unwilling to leave the doll on her own, but she was stubborn and certain when she opened the door, somehow finding it in herself to give him the smallest broken but reassuring smile she could offer. So as much as he wouldn’t want to, he obeyed, and stepped out without another look at Vaggie, closing the door and leaving the two friends to settle things between themselves.

With a shuddering breath, Charlie forced herself to turn away from the door and look back to Vaggie through the blur of her tears. Her best friend was silent, but from all the emotions that were flashing in her eyes, it was obvious that she wasn't internally.

* * *

On his own, Angel breathed out an exasperated sigh. 

Jesus, how things really went to shit in there. He could only wonder how Charlie was going to get herself out of the _bearcat_ ’s tongue-lashing. He wouldn’t be surprised if he heard the sound of breaking furniture to follow, but he doubted the angry girl would be that relentless.

Seeing as how it was pointless to get himself involved, as per the doll’s wishes, he would have liked to hightail himself from the place, since he was to have no business with the dilemma that was going on. But his better conscience told him to stay for Charlie’s sake and decided that he should probably stick around a little longer just in case things inside might actually get messy and there was really a need for him to intervene.

For now, Angel helped himself to a sit on the steps of the front porch, glad to at least have his _lucky deck_ on himself to have a smoke to pass the time waiting out the trouble.

* * *

"...Vaggie…"

Vaggie held up a hand, effectively silencing Charlie so that she herself could speak first.

"Tell me this Charlie…" she began, her tone dour and solemn. "If I hadn't called your parents' house and found out about it, would you have still kept me in the dark?"

"Was this why you were so different since just now?" Charlie replied in a soft voice. 

Vaggie shut her eyes tight like she was trying to will every little bit of patience she had left to not lash out once more, which seemed to take a great deal out of her by how she had tightened her downturned lips and nodded gravely.

"I didn't want to say anything because I wanted to see if you would confess on your own terms… I wanted to see if I even meant anything for you to tell me the truth…"

When she opened her eyes, they were softer now, but filled with a sorrow that was immense. Anger was underlying in the grief she was experiencing, rendering her voice weak as she muttered bitterly, "I can't believe you, Charlie...

A stronger pang of guilt hit Charlie right in the heart, and at the moment she felt that she was the most terrible person in the world for doing this to Vaggie. So many words of apologies were starting to race in her mind, but through the painful tightness of her throat, she could only utter weakly, "... I'm sorry…"

"'Sorry'?" Vaggie said incredulously, her pronounced frown showing pure doubt. "You're 'sorry'? You lied straight to my face. You had every intention to do it. I asked you for one thing and you just went ahead and did it anyway."

"I know… And it was wrong…" Charlie implored, her tone begging to be believed. "It was wrong and I'm so sorry…"

But her apology went unaccepted, and every emotion that was piling up within Vaggie was only growing with more vigour, her patience about to snap again as anger started to overwhelm her once more.

"You promised me, Charlie! You promised me that you wouldn’t do anything with him while I was gone! I confided in you! I downright pleaded with you to understand! And you just went ahead and did it!"

"I'm sorry…"

Vaggie paid no attention to Charlie's third attempt at an inadequate apology, continuing to rant out her vexation. “What if something happened to you while I was gone, Charlie? You don't even know if he can really be trusted! He could have done anything to you! And to think that you even brought him into the house!"

Just then, it seemed that at that moment, the words that had been said were suddenly registered to Vaggie's thoughts, and a certain realisation suddenly dawned on her. Stopping short in her speech, she looked to Charlie with a different kind of fear and disbelief in her eyes.

"... _Ay, Dios mío_..."

The uneasiness in the air started to peak in tension, and Charlie could almost feel her heart palpitating right at the back of her throat as her gut began sinking with dread.

"Did you sleep with him?..."

* * *

Angel admired how lovely the neighbourhood was.

Picturesque with houses that promised cozy and comfort, it seemed so very enticing, but having grown up in the noisy suburbs of New York City with an equally noisy Italian setting, and having a fair share of bunking in with sleazes and even being homeless at times from the night-time _street-walking,_ he wasn't familiar with the concept of cozy and comfort.

Charlie and Vaggie sure were lucky to be able to afford something like this for their own. Angel wondered to himself if he could ever find what they had. Hell, the hotel wasn't exactly the epitome of cozy and comfy, and it wasn't a place that he could really call his own, but with his circumstances, it was the best he could get and it was free so he'd have to deal with it. At least it beat spending nights with the tempestuous Valentino, or the squalid milieu of the bordello squatting.

Yet, Angel couldn't help but ponder on the thought of how nice it might be to be living in a place like this if he wasn't _on the nut_. Molly would have loved it, and he could be living peacefully with his sister. It seemed so serene, bringing the promise of no drama or dangers in his quietude.

Well, except for the one that was going on inside the house right now.

That thought broke Angel out of his languid daydreaming and brought him back to reality to turn his head and listen for any more shouting. But as he did, a flash of movement from the house next-door unexpectedly caught his attention.

And wouldn't you know it; here came the catalyst of all this mess.

* * *

There was desperation that painted Vaggie's facade - desperation for what she was suspecting to not be true.

"Charlie… Did you sleep with Alastor Carlon?"

The repeat of that dreadful question only fueled the internal urge that overwhelmed Charlie; to deny Vaggie's statement, to pretend that there was no particular reason as to why Alastor's monocle was in her house, to just come up with any fib that could keep up a pretence simply for the sake of not having to admit to what she did not have the heart to reveal.

But with how much had gone down, what was the point now to keep lying?

"Yes... I did."

The weight of her confession felt heavy in the silence that followed, and Charlie wanted nothing more than to run and hide in any dark corner that she could find, to curl into herself and not show her face, just so that she wouldn't have to bear with what was to come now.

Vaggie was uncharacteristically silent, the words of the truth still sinking into her, but it was clearly adamant to her that it was the straw that broke her back, and Charlie could only start to brace herself for another diatribe.

But that didn't come. 

Instead, she just stood there, suppressed by resentment and distress, that suddenly led to a quick and nervous rash movement which seemed to be an instinctive reaction to every negative feeling that was overwhelming her.

Raising the monocle up high, she harshly swung her arm down, letting it go from her grasp towards the floor in her rough throw.

Charlie gasped aloud, immensely shocked by her actions. It was only a good thing that there was a thick carpet where they stood, which softened the impact when the accessory hit the ground, preventing it from breaking into pieces.

Charlie knelt immediately to where it had landed near her feet, picking it up to keep it safe within her hold. As she did, Vaggie suddenly moved quickly to rush past her towards the stairs, head hanging low with her long dark hair hiding her expression that was now woebegone. Panicked, Charlie reached out for her, calling her name in urgent desperation, but her call went unheeded as Vaggie quailed away from her touch and ran up the stairs, her cries starting to bubble out of her, very audible until the violent slamming of her door cut it out from Charlie's hearing.

And so came the end of their disastrous reunion, leaving Charlie to remain kneeling on the floor and crumbling, putting her face into her hands to muffle out her guilty cries.

* * *

"Hey!"

Hearing the call coming from the opposite direction, the neighbour's head whipped around with eyes that were somehow already wide with unease, although it suddenly relaxed when he realised in surprise who was talking to him.

"Oh, it's you."

Angel was now leaning forward casually on the fence, giving a lazy salute to Alastor with the hand that held his half-finished cigarette. 

"Yeah, it's me."

Alastor was clearly back from somewhere, and judging from the exhaustion that was evident from the light shadows under his eyes, it seemed that he must have had a long night elsewhere. How so very curious.

But even with the fatigue, he still mustered up a smile in polite greeting.

"Angel Dust, am I correct?" Alastor asked, getting a nod of affirmation. "Is that even your real name?"

"I wouldn't get the greens rollin' if the _tricks_ ' gotta moan 'Anthony' in bed, handsome," Angel remarked with a cheeky wink.

Alastor had known at least enough about him to remember that he was a _rent boy_ , and while the _nance_ 's profession did not bother him in the slightest, the forwardness of his behaviour did enough to send an uncomfortable chill down his spine, much like the first time they had properly met in the hotel, when he had offered to - ahem - 'do him a service'.

Uncouth first impressions aside, Alastor remained as polite as he could be, staying where he stood and keeping his close-lipped smile on to bring up the far more pressing question.

"So, what brings you here to this side of New Orleans?"

In response, Angel stuck a thumb out to point at the house behind him. "Followed the babe to pick up the other babe. Standing out here 'cause they're in there having some major discussion that I can't butt into."

Now, was it just Angel, or did Alastor start looking a little nervous?

His smile remained, but minute changes started to appear on his features - his brow knitted into a mild frown, his sights darted to the house behind Angel with guarded eyes, and his lips pressed just the slightest bit.

"So, Charlie's home right now?" Alastor asked in a vacant voice.

"That's right."

The hesitation in Alastor grew the longer he stared at the house. When he cleared his throat to break the silence, his conduct was now more restrained to say, "Well, then. Send her my greetings, if you will. Now, if you won't mind, my friend, I'll be taking my leave."

Alastor's departing sentence came with a quick turn of his feet, his back already to Angel as he returned on the path to his front door. His dismissive stance - quite abrupt and a slight bit rude - would have called for the end of the conversation and letting him go on his merry way.

But Angel watched in puzzlement at the man's peculiarity. Why did he seem so anxious to know that Charlie was nearby? And why was he suddenly in such a hurry to get to his house? Angel could only feel inclined to find out, feeling a bit of a need to poke his _beezer_ into what might be going on.

"Why not tell her yourself? Or are you actually avoiding her?"

Now that definitely did the trick in stopping Alastor in his tracks as abrupt as he had been to leave, making him look back at the other with an inquisitive stare.

"Beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

At this, Alastor turned back to him, giving his undivided attention as he tilted his head in curiosity. "Now, what gave you that idea?" he asked nonchalantly.

Angel blew out a smooth stream of smoke before answering smartly, "Not 'what', 'who'. And yes, it's the doll."

It was clear by the emotions that flickered in his eyes that there was a hesitation to broach the subject of Charlie, which piked Angel's curiosity further. Knowing very well that he was feeling nervous in a way, it prompted Angel to press on.

"Before you ask; yeah, she's feeling pretty fucked about it, and I don't mean that literally."

Alastor may have remained reticent to the statement Angel brought up, but his eyes had narrowed in the slightest with disapproval at the foul language that had been used.

"My friend, I'd advise you to mind the crass language of your tongue,” Alastor 'scolded' lightheartedly. "It's unfitting to talk about her that way."

His reaction only served to amuse Angel. “Aww, getting really defensive for your little girlfriend, eh?" he jested in witty amusement.

“She isn’t my ‘girlfriend’." 

“Well, you couldn’t have made it more obvious than doing a _hit-and-run_ on her.” 

Now he got him right in the bag, judging from the way Alastor's eyes narrowed just the slightest more as he turned stonier at his quick and sharp clarification. It certainly gave him away somewhat, making Angel all the more sure to suspect that the man had simply treated Charlie like a _wife for the night_. 

“Just what are you trying to get at?” Alastor questioned, his voice collected although there was a tinge of irritation in his tone.

“What I’m trying to get at is why’d you gotta do that to her," Angel replied, now unsmiling as he pressed on the topic. "Gotta admit that I didn’t take you to be the type to _dangle a frail_ like that.”

Studying his face, Angel knew that his words had struck a nerve in Alastor, who was probably not taking well to be told off in such a way, especially from someone like him.

"Mr Dust, I hope you won't mind if I tell you right now that whatever is going on between Charlie and I is strictly none of your business."

Things were getting more and more curious right now with the way he seemed to almost demand him to stop, but Angel had not been deterred. It would take more than a mild play of intimidation to wheedle him, and he also had to admit that it was kind of fun to see him so riled up over it.

Besides, he wasn't going to relent to the demand without putting in a say.

"I ain't saying it is, Smiles,” Angel replied with a casual shrug, before adding on, “But I’m speakin’ for Charlie."

Silence fell between the two men, and they only stared at each other. However, at that moment, Alastor's body language changed entirely in an instant. From relaxed and languid, his form became stiff and rigid, like he was caught doing something that he wasn't supposed to do. But it was not driven by fear. No, it was something else. Something that Angel couldn't quite put his finger on. Anger maybe? Definitely irritation. And also something like… anxiety? 

That's strange.

The mystery only brought some sort of tension about him, giving off a suspenseful air that was supplemented by the tightness of his voice when he spoke, his stance kept firm when he asserted himself once more.

"As I would reiterate again; none of your business."

The repetition of those resolute words came with an underlying tone of stern warning, accompanied by the sudden austere look in Alastor's eyes that seemed mismatched to the very toothy grin that he gave, the tone of finality in his voice coming with a stress on his want for the other to back off. Anyone in Angel's position would think it very strange that he would still keep a smile on despite the annoyance and displeasure that he was feeling, so very different from how off-hand he had been when they had first spoke

Seeing Alastor so Janus-faced was enough to have Angel falter just the slightest, eyeing him warily as if he was now some sort of agitated animal that was ready to pounce and attack. It was only then that Angel decided that he had overstepped enough boundaries, raising his hands with palms opened front to show that he was cutting the talk. 

"Alright then," Angel flummoxed. "Up to you."

Alastor seemed satisfied, although his inhibition was still evident. But he said no more as he took this moment to be the end of their conversation, giving a simple nod in farewell before turning his back to the other once more to walk off.

After giving a flick of his nearly-finished cigarette to clear it of leftover tobacco, Angel backed away from the fence and turned to head to the steps of the front porch, only giving a glance over his shoulder to watch Alastor already at his door, opening it with a sort of impatience and closing it shut in a rush once he had made his way inside.

And it seemed to be timed just perfectly, as at that moment, the front door opened and Charlie stepped out of the house, looking weary with eyes burning red and lashes a mess of smeared mascara from the tears that had also stained her cheeks. 

Angel halted when he laid his eyes on her. "Jesus Christ," Angel muttered, all concerned. "You alright, doll?"

Stupid question really, because she looked like she just had a good long cry - so, in no way did she look alright at all. Damn, he probably should put his foot in his mouth and stuff it.

Charlie gave no answer to him, still sniffling as her hands were busy with a handkerchief to wipe away the mess on her face. With wavering steps, she remained in perturbed silence as she came to sit on the steps of the porch, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them tightly as she continued to wipe away tears that were still streaming down her cheeks. 

Not knowing what else to do, Angel awkwardly sat beside her, not saying anything and letting her be, only keeping a pitiful look at her. He would have thought to give her a hug or something, but it seemed too uncomfortable for anything else other than to give her space. So they remained that way for a while, allowing her however much time and space she would need to recompose herself. 

When Charlie finally forced herself to speak, her voice was all scratchy and quivering as she croaked, "I don't know if Vaggie would ever forgive me…"

She suddenly pressed the palm of her hands hard against her eyes, as though to physically hold back more tears, bemoaning, "I'm so stupid, Angel… I knew it was a bad idea, but why did I still go ahead and do it?... "

Now it was just getting discomfiting for Angel to watch her beat herself up about the situation.

"Don't think about it so much. So she's a little iffy that you went to a party with some _bird_ she doesn't like. What's the big deal? She'll get over it."

He put a hand on her shoulder in a show of comfort, giving her a gentle squeeze as he went on.

"I ain't gonna really be a saint when I tell you that everybody gets lied to. For whatever reason, everybody's gonna end up being lied to, one way or another. And Vaggie isn't any special. So, like I said: she'll get over it."

Even though she was still too engrossed in her own mess of thoughts to give a response to what he had just said, Charlie had half-heartedly paid mind to the advice and reassurance that Angel had imparted. However, although she knew he had meant well and held a ring of truth, it did not sit right with her. 

She lied and that was wrong. Lying was wrong, no matter whatever the reason was. Nothing good came from it except for pain and sadness and betrayal and any other negative connotation that it could associate itself with, and along the way bringing damage to trust.

_… To trust..._

When that random thought popped up in her melancholia, Charlie suddenly turned her head to the side to look at Alastor's house, watching it in its silence that only further reminded her of the 'disappearance' of its owner.

Seeing her in that state, Angel decided to keep mum to himself about his encounter with her neighbour, thinking it best if he didn't add on to her already distressed state-of-mind of the aloofness that Angel had seen Alastor portray, knowing that it won’t do her any good to be in a rue for letting herself get taken by a man who probably wasn't really a gentleman as he would make himself out to be.

"... First Alastor… Now Vaggie…" Charlie murmured to herself.

Angel continued to remain silent, knowing no else on what to do to help Charlie out of her blues. They stayed that way for a while more, with Angel quietly watching their quiet surroundings while giving glances at Charlie who was still in the midst of crying leftover tears. 

But when the seconds turned to minutes, the sky above was darkening into burnt orange, signalling the coming of night.

"Uh… babe?" Angel broke the silence with quiet hesitation. "As much as I'd like to sit here with you, I really need to get hustlin' soon. The night's about to fall."

As Charlie ceased in her lamentation, the sallowness of her face deepened just the slightest bit, and it was obvious that she didn't want to be left alone in this state. That made Angel feel really bad, but he couldn't. He needed to get to making some _greens_ tonight or else Val's going to be giving him more than an earful.

Also, with all this drama that he had unintentionally got himself into, he'd be in a need for a lil' 'pick-me-up' to shake off the excitement.

Charlie could tell his hesitation, and as good-hearted as she was, she didn't try to press him for anything. With a half-hearted pull of her lips that did not reach her eyes, she said, "Oh, of course. Just be careful and take care, alright?"

"Always am, toots. But what about you?" Angel cast a hesitant glance to the house. "What about her?" he asked carefully.

At the mention of Vaggie, Charlie could only look behind at the door with a heavy look, wondering what was to happen now within the house with the remnants of the feud still lingering in its atmosphere. She honestly did not want to go back inside just yet, unwilling to face the consequences of her actions. 

But what choice did she have left? There was not much else that could be done, except to let time and patience take the reins to allow the dust to settle.

"I just need to give her time," she replied, voice hurting and spiritless. "I'll go to her when she's ready to talk to me again."

With that said, Angel finally took off, giving a wave to her as he made his way down the pavement leading out of the neighbourhood. Charlie went as far as the sidewalk and stood by on her lawn, waving back until her friend had turned around the corner and disappeared.

Being alone right now then brought a whole new sense of heartache, and in another mistake she knew she probably shouldn't have done, she allowed herself to look at the house next door, gazing intently at it as though waiting for the familiar face of Alastor's to appear. 

But like all other times, the house remained still and silent.

_… So much for toasting to trust…_

Charlie wanted to scoff at the harrowing thought that whatever was going on with Alastor was probably a tit for tat for her actions to Vaggie, but truly she was becoming more crestfallen by the minute. In a bout of self-reproach, she could only continue to hurt as she reminded herself once more that everything that was happening to her now was all her fault, and it was her karma and payback to deal with.

A new prickle of tears started stinging her eyes, and if there was something she did not want to do now, it was to break down crying so out in the open. She was on the horns of dilemma to return to the apprehension that still lingered fresh, but without much of a choice of what to do now, she forced herself to turn away from the neighbouring house and make her way back inside into her own. 

The whole time, Charlie was wholly unaware of the eyes that were hiding behind the drapes of his bedroom window and watching from within the darkness, an inner turmoil starting to brew within his core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much heartache in this chapter! Charlie's hit a rut with Vaggie, and it doesn't help that Angel basically caught Alastor in the act of avoiding her! I can only wonder how things would go for our beloved doll. Will there ever be a way for her to get out of this dilemma? And what of Alastor? I wonder what's going on with him...
> 
> I hope this chapter turned out well! I really struggled with this one as it was written entirely on my phone because my laptop had decided to go bust at the wrong time T.T But thankfully it will be back to me tomorrow, and typing chapters will be smoother once more!
> 
> I seem to always be blessed with absolutely beautiful fanart on Twitter, and seeing all this beautiful renditions of Smiling Man really be putting a huge grin to my face and making my day in an instant! Thank you so much to darlings Khabee (@khabee_), Mama Freya (@charlastortrashheap), Sain-chan (@sain_chan), Pastel (@ProcrastiPastel), IllusiveDesires (@illusivedesires) and ZD101 (@ZD10110)! ❤
> 
> And to you lovely readers! Thank you so much for showing SM so much love and joining on this journey with me! I hope you're ready to ride the Heartache Express!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Break it up - Stop that  
> Cheese it - Hide  
> Get back on your rocker! - Stop acting crazy!  
> Bearcat - A fiery and hot-blooded girl  
> Lucky deck - Pack of cigarettes  
> Street-walking - Prostituting  
> On the nut - Broke  
> Tricks - Male customers who seek out male prostitutes  
> Rent boy - Male prostitute  
> Nance - Effeminate man  
> Beezer - Nose  
> Hit-and-run - Depart immediately after having sex  
> Wife for the night - One-night stand  
> Dangle a frail - Leave a woman  
> Bird - Person
> 
> Spanish translation:
> 
> ...Ay, Dios mío... - ...Oh, my God...  
> ¡Quédate fuera de esto! - Stay out of this!
> 
> Italian translation:
> 
> Cazzo smetti di urlare! - Fucking stop screaming!


	32. A Spanner in the Works

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: BLOOD, GORE AND MUTILATION

Alastor was very well-aware of how uncouth he was behaving with this sudden withdrawal from her presence, and he was also very well-aware of how it would make Charlie feel, even before her _ethel_ friend had stopped him for an attempt of a lecture. Seeing her all teary-eyed and dispirited out on her front lawn that day only confirmed what he had expected, and even made him wonder just how much she was hurting because of this.

However, he could not bring himself to face her.

Not after that night.

The events of that night had been perplexing Alastor that it seemed to be always intruding his thoughts and forcing him to recollect all that had gone down. He could not stop thinking about how he had been rendered unable to withstand his constraints and allowed himself to be released to compulsion, how he had let himself succumb to her touch and her sound and just everything about her.

Just the thought of her alone was enough to send his mind at sixes and sevens, riling him up with confusion each and every time the thought of her popped up and sent him into a spiral of emotions that he didn’t quite know how to handle. It baffled him, as much as it infuriated him, and so he did what he thought best and that was to avoid her.

It was for the sake of his own sanity. Out of sight, out of mind - that's what would be said. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as he would hope for.

The darling had been a relentless one, coming day by day to knock on his door and call for his name, and wait for even a minute or more for his answer. She had sounded like she really wanted to talk to him and see him, no doubt to have some clarity on what had happened between them. The first few times, however, Alastor largely ignored her, staying as far away from the door as he could, keeping to himself in any one of his rooms with his form forced still to not move.

A cursed thing, her voice was. Like a siren's call - it sang to his blood and entranced him so deeply, yet it was so very deadly in the way it pulled him into the temptation to heed it and lead him to certain doom. So much so that on the third day she stood on his porch, he relented and brought himself to stand in front of the door, silent and still, waiting and listening to the tinkling of her voice calling for his name. He could only allow himself just that much liberty to stay there and listen to the sweetness of her sound, indulging himself in that little bit of her, although he remained resolute in not answering, pulled back by the uncertainty that would engulf him should he lay eyes on her again, fuelled by that damning disgust within himself for having been so easily affected by her.

He had nearly broken through on the fifth day, his hand had been as close as to put itself on the doorknob, held by every shred of restraint he could muster to not twist it open.

When Charlie didn’t come, her voice remained with him, ringing within the deep consciousness of his mind, and he had tried so hard to block it out the only way he could, occupying himself as much as he could. He had requested for mainly day shifts at work so that he wasn’t around the neighbourhood when she would be, and he made sure that the time spent at home – if he was fortunate enough to not have her coming to his doorstep – would be kept to a minimum before disappearing late into the night for some ‘hunting’.

Alastor had been a little more active in his ‘recreations’ than usual, but he had a lot of steam to blow off and take it out on any unfortunate soul that came across his path. To have them trapped in his unforeseen incursions was quite the relief with the way their screams flowed like music to his ears, a symphony of pain and anguish in its shrill notes that reeked of fear and desperation, and with their forms that were shrivelled and ridden with terror came the promise of a filled stomach with delicious meat and blood.

Within the confines of his dark basement, Alastor was reposed in tranquillity after working with the spoil that was now lying at his feet, newly dead with the blood still seeping out through a small drain in the centre of the room.

A fan that had been brave to go up to him when he was having his lunch break in a café nearby the station, and had been more than delighted when he treated her for a walk around town before inviting her to his humble home for some drinks. The _bim_ had thought she was in for a real treat until he caught her by surprise before she could get too cosy in his sitting room, debilitated as she got dragged downstairs to the basement to meet her untimely demise of being decorated with _chivs_ all around her tiny body and drawing her last breath with a clean slice against her jugular.

The _Dumb Dora_. Having to die so early because of her own naiveté. Didn’t she learn not to get too comfy with strangers?

Alastor knelt by the body and picked up a slim arm. With a skilful hand, he jabbed the sharp point of the knife into the wrist, taking his time to drag it down the forearm, the tool gliding smoothly as it separated meat from bone, drawing however much blood had been left in her system.

The process took quite a bit of time but he did not mind, finding it good to focus all of his concentration into deciding which parts could used for what dish. The fleshier parts like the breasts and the thighs could make a good steak, the leaner parts like the arms and the legs to be cut into chunks and boiled into soups and stews, the organs would make good casings for sausages or any delectable form of offal.

The rest would probably end up to be taken care by any of the elementals codes he had with his associates. Probably ‘Water’, considering that he’d need to make a _clean sneak_ , and it would be selfish to not share some good meat with the hungry alligators that lurk in the bayous.

Alastor laid out the cut-up pieces of flesh on a clean tray he had nearby, and when the body was nothing but leftovers, he chucked her aside to a corner to cover her remains with a long sheet he had there, leaving her to rot until his associates would come by and take her away to be disposed of properly.

Another job well done was what he thought as he drew the length of cloth from the feet-up, taking another look at the desecrated body with appreciation, admiring how her cold, dead eyes were still wide open, frozen in sheer utter horror and looking as if she was still staring at him like she was staring at Death itself.

His mind started wandering off then, recklessly shaping the thought of how such a look might be on Charlie.

How things would have been different if, in that brief moment when he hadn’t succumbed to the hesitation on that night or the morning after, it could have been her in such a position. Lying at his feet, stopped dead, deboned of her flesh that would have been so soft and warm and scented so deliciously that just a mere memory was enough to make his mouth water, how her eyes might look so broken of the trust that she had given him.

Yet, the very imagination of it sent a lurch to his stomach that made him feel so wrong.

Just like that, it unsettled him once more.

_What have you done to me, Charlie Magne?_

* * *

From the moment he took the first step into the emporium, Alastor was already giving off a very heavy air that was burdened with irksome thoughts, and seeing that made Rosie mindful to keep quiet, not knowing how else to approach him than to give him a simple kind greeting and the go-ahead to let himself into the speakeasy.

The jazz was loud and toe-tapping as it always was, accompanied by the familiar voice of Mimzy gracing the melody. The _canary_ had been in the middle of belting out a high note when she caught sight of Alastor, instigating a flicker of emotion that flashed quickly and disappeared before it could catch the attention of the audience. But Alastor paid no mind to her or the music, too nonchalant that he even gave just a simple greeting to the ever-jubilant Niffty, who seemed none the wiser to the difference in his attitude.

When he made his way to his usual spot at the bar, it seemed that Husker was already in somewhat of a _jingle_ , though his demeanour was still gruff as always when Alastor perched himself on his usual seat, greeted only by a side-eye in his direction.

"Evening, Husker. A neat whiskey, please."

Even _half-cocked_ , Husk raised a brow curiously at his order. Usually the man would be ordering something with a mixer if it's just a languid drink session, but just straight-up whiskey?

"What's with you?"

Alastor tilted his head at the question. "Whatever do you mean?"

Starting to fill up a tumbler to its recommended amount of whiskey, Husk remarked casually, "In all my years of being behind a bar, there's only a couple of reasons a man would order a neat – money or girls."

Alastor was relatively quiet as he took the tumbler, save for a simple, "Hmm."

His reply didn’t seem out-of-the-ordinary to Husk at first, but when it did not follow with a smart, somewhat cocky, statement, he felt that something was off, and looked to Alastor staring at the contents of his glass in what seemed to be a sort of contemplation.

And that alone had been enough to send Husk into incredulity.

“Hold on, hold on. Are you telling me that you’re getting all riled up… over a girl?”

Alastor looked at him unfazed. “What makes you think it’s not about money?”

Of course, it couldn’t be about money. Alastor had always been smart with his finances, seeing as how he was able to afford both a comfortable life for himself, patron the speakeasy, and also pay Husk and Niffty for their ‘assistance’, with only the occasional splurge of a new book or a bottle of alcohol of choice. So it wasn’t that difficult for Husk to guess that it was the latter.

“Are you being serious?” the bartender asked, still quite not believing what he was guessing.

“No, absolutely not,” Alastor replied sarcastically.

There was a hesitation to confirm what he suspected, but Husk felt like he had to.

“Charlie?”

A dark look flashed across Alastor’s eyes at the mention of that name, and it was peculiar that he chose not to respond, simply bringing the glass to his lips in silence and taking a swig, wincing at the potency of the straight whiskey. But those actions alone gave Husk all the answer that he needed.

Taking a step back and take a good look at Alastor, his fingers started running through his hair in astonishment.

“Fuck… You did it? You went and _chilled her off_ , didn’t you?”

Panic was starting to rise in Husk, preparing to throw a slew of curses at Alastor for not listening and getting excessively involved with his blonde neighbour. A small part of him was telling him to try to remain calm and just treating it like another job to be done, but the better part of him was more concerned about the repercussions, flooding with the thought of all his predictions probably coming true and that shit was about to go down as he had expected.

“I did not.”

Alastor’s answer came in a sigh of irritation, along with the way he put his glass down on the bar-top with a little more force than necessary, almost as if agitated, and the response had Husk cutting short from getting his tongue ready to fire many bedamning things to him, shifting him to confusion.

“Wait, what?”

Alastor’s lips tightened in displeasure of having to repeat himself, which he did with an irked, “I didn’t do anything to her.”

Now Husk was just confused, as much as he dumbfounded by what he was hearing. If that were the case, then what was going on with him?

If he didn’t kill her, then did that mean…

Alastor was actually in a stump because of a girl?

“Well, fuck. This is bad. Not even bad. This is worse. This is going all sorts of wrong.”

Alastor continued to drink and pointedly ignored the way Husk was staring at him warily. Just by his facial and body language, it was obvious for Husk to tell that the man’s ‘brilliant plan’ of wanting to play ‘Hunter and Hunted’ somehow hadn’t gone the way he had expected. Being _soused_ must have clouded his focus to get his hackles raised, more distracted by what he was reading from Alastor’s face.

Despite smiling as he usually did, he looked morose as hell, like he was bothered by something by Charlie. And Husk knew such a look anywhere – a look of a man that seemed to have gotten out of some _flat shoes_ , or something akin to it.

And for some reason, the thought honestly made him laugh, which he did.

“I just cannot believe it,” Husk said in between snickers, starting to relax. “Alastor Carlon, hard-hearted serial killer and fucked-up cannibal, is caught in a _doozy_ by a pretty blonde thing? This is so wrong.”

Husk knew he shouldn’t be laughing and should instead be beating some sense into Alastor, but it just seemed all too hilarious for him to not think of how ridiculous that sounded. If Alastor was actually doing something stupid, then there’s no way he wasn’t going to take the chance to laugh in his face, paying no mind that it was only instigating the murderous glint in the radio host’s eyes.

“Remind me again why I have yet to drown you in your own blood?” Alastor questioned darkly through the gritting of teeth in his grin, not appreciating being treated like some sort of fool.

Husk had already been so mellowed out by Alastor’s antics over the years to not be the slightest bit daunted, and he simply pointed a finger right at him and replied smugly, “Because you still need someone around to clean up after your messes, and you sure as hell can’t count on Niffty for all the heavy-lifting. Plus, you two can’t drive."

Husk should consider himself lucky that Alastor found him amusing enough to still keep him around and let him get away with all that smart talk, withstanding every bit of patience he had in him to keep his hands to himself and drink while the bartender was having his laughs and pulling out another tumbler to help himself to the whiskey, wanting _giggle juice_ to tide over the interesting conversation that he wished to strike up with the man.

When the laughter died down considerably, he asked curiously, “Now, don’t keep me in the dark. What’d little Miss Magne do to have you all ruffled up like some rejected schoolboy?”

"My, old sport, you're really trying to dig up something from me, aren't you?"

Husk ignored that statement, shooting back his drink as he continued, “Boy, you had everybody here pretty riled up when you went ahead and locked lips with the doll. Got me wondering if I probably took a _Mickey Finn_ by accident and started hallucinating or something.”

Why, yes. Such an action did seem to be something very out-of-character of him, and Alastor could only pinpoint the blame to all the liquor he had that night, along with the way Charlie had sang to him. It was quite dismaying, to remember it where it had happened, and it did not help the agitation that was still lingering within.

Meanwhile, Husk was continuing the conversation without much thought. “First, you’re out smooching her in the middle of the _joint_. And then, what? Going all the way?”

Oh, Alastor was starting to look pretty irritated now, and under more sober circumstances, Husk would do well to mind his own damn business and not poke and prod what was unnecessary to know. But _jazzed_ circumstances had him lose his inhibitions and poke and prod as much as he could get a hoot out of seeing Alastor at a loss, his laugh only continuing at the sight.

But as Alastor always was, he took the conversation in stride, holding his nose up high as he took another gulp of his neat whiskey.

“Well, if you are just so curious to know, I did go ‘all the way’ with Miss Magne.”

As much as he had been the one to bring up that question, that answer caused Husk to sputter on his drink. “Woah, you sly dog. You actually went and did it?” A hum from Alastor to mean his affirmation, inciting a low impressed whistle from Husk. “I didn’t think you actually had it in you.”

Suddenly, Alastor was looking almost insulted. “What do you mean?” he questioned. “Are you trying to imply that I’m not capable?”

At the snap, Husk raised his hands up like a plea of innocence. “I’m not tryna bruise your ego here. I’m just saying that you don’t look like the type.”

Even if there had been sincerity in his tone, Alastor still didn’t pleased to let that one go so easily, and with a straightening of posture, he answered brazenly, “Well, I’d be obligated to answer you that I have.”

Alastor has had a few trysts in the past. Being a radio host came with the quirk of having many pretty dames dropping to his feet sometimes, and sometimes were few when he felt taken enough to _make whoopee_ with any girl who was just about pretty and feisty enough to stir a bit of something in him. How it would start would mainly have been out of curiosity, and possibly the need to spill came with being a man – a ridiculous thought, to be honest.

However, with the few times he’s tried, he had discovered that sex wasn’t something that truly interested him at all. To him, it wasn’t something that some of his co-workers – lecherous Tom Trench was a good example – had glorified it to be. In fact, he'd go as far as to admit that he found it a tad bit disgusting even, and quite irksome for him to use somebody’s body and just chuck it aside like it meant nothing. Well, it might not be the case of some of his bed partners who may have been hoping for more, but it was for him. He simply felt no connection that extended beyond the physical, and thus had no intention to still have them around, so to say he’s broken a few hearts could be quite the understatement, seeing as all of his ‘experiences’ would not last more than a couple of nights by his side.

It just didn’t give him that sense of satisfaction. Nothing blood-pumping or high-inducing, and never something that could stir him up until the end. It had been so bothersome that he came to see it as an unnecessary distraction, so for the past few years, he had been largely celibate, and he would probably think of himself as quite queer for not finding a strong interest in such lewd desires.

But by no means was Husk interested to know in the details of what he does with what’s in his pants, as much as he had no initial intention to have Alastor straight-up tell him that he’s experienced for the sole purpose of defending his own ego. Just the mere thought of it was enough to make Husk shudder in pure discomfort, moving on from the topic sounded like a much better idea.

“Uh… okay. And then what happened?”

There was a pause from Alastor, and he looked like he was thinking hard on his answer, which quirked Husk’s curiosity at what might have gone down. He waited patiently as Alastor stayed silent for a few more seconds, before taking another sip of his drink and answering.

“I left.”

Honestly, Husk had been expecting more of an answer, so to hear that short and simple sentence somewhat threw him off-guard.

“You left?”

A nod. “I left her house.”

“Okay… But did you two do anything after that?” Husk prodded uncertainly.

“No.”

“Not even talk?”

“I have no urge to talk to her.”

Husk blinked in surprise at Alastor’s cold responses. Now, this was just taking a turn in unexpected ways, and he could only stare at him all wide-eyed. He waited a few seconds for him to possibly continue, which he didn’t.

"Jesus, so you just up and ghosted her?" he muttered in disbelief. “That’s harsh.”

Frowning, Alastor gestured his glass at him sceptically. "If I recall; weren't you the one who said that I was damning all of you by even being with her?” he noted.

That had Husk scratching the back of his head, looking for the right words to answer. “Well, yeah, I guess. But I’d have expected you to do ‘something else’ while you had the chance.”

Alastor paused, and the scepticism and mild vexation that had been in his face started to fade as he looked back at him thoughtfully.

“I mean, you could have up and done it, right?” Husk continued in his explanation. “That was your whole plan in the first place, and it sounds to me that you had that chance.”

Husk knew he was making a good point there. Knowing Alastor to be quite the opportunist when it came to a kill, it made perfect sense. But to his surprise, he didn’t say anything to that, only looking back down at his tumbler at what’s left of the whiskey in it, looking almost pensive in deep thought.

Which had Husk asking curiously, “So… why didn’t you?”

Alastor would admit that, for a few times, he had used the pretence of a night together to lure some unfortunate girls in for an easy trapping, and he wasn’t that surprised to find it easy to pull them in, what with him being so _made_. However, he’d never go as far as to actually do anything with them. It was strange, but he didn't like the concept of killing someone he had copulated with, let alone consume them when he had a part of him in them. He didn’t like that thought one bit.

But then, Charlie happened.

And it suddenly got himself thinking; if that’s what he had been abiding to for so long, then why was it different with Charlie?

With Charlie, it was… strange. He didn’t know where to place his finger on it, but there was just something about her that riled him up like no other girl had. Just the way she was like a juxtaposition in her own form – so sweet and soft and gentle, and yet containing a fire that couldn’t seem to be tamed by anyone but her own volition. A fire that ignited a sort of flame inside him that had been largely dormant, but now was lit to extremes that he would have never thought possible for somebody like him.

The mere thought of her stirred so many things in him in so many unexplainable ways. No doubt, there was still the urge to follow through with his original plan, to string along this far, to make her believe in him so much that she would offer herself for the taking. Except, upon remembering the way her soft and pliant body had felt in his arms, how her lips had tasted sweet and delicious, and how mellifluous she sounded when she spoke and sang and breathed and mewled… There was a tug that pulled him into wanting more of her.

But aside from the confusion, there was another major problem that he simply could not forget.

Charlie was the Big Apple’s daughter.

Thinking back to that morning, Alastor thought of how it just seemed like a damning coincidence that the card had to fall out of his jacket pocket when he was in his rush to leave, acting like some sort of sick reminder of how he’d done fucked himself up for bedding the daughter of the man that now had his sights for him.

That card had now been safely stashed away at the back of his night-table drawer, but if that gun to the face wasn’t enough reason to rethink his next move, he wasn’t sure what was.

…

…

…

This was unacceptable.

How could he have allowed things to become more complicated than it was supposed to be?

For what? Some clown that tricked him with a gun to get a kick out of it in a pathetic power show of leverage? Thinking he could hang some sort of threat over his head to have him conform and be some sort of lackey to him?

What complete and utter bullshit.

And then, there was his daughter.

That loathsome girl who had beguiled him.

Alastor suddenly harked back to the way she had pushed him down onto her bed, unintentionally provoking a sense of panic that had him showing weakness for just that moment. Even in the midst of darkness, she had definitely seen how his eyes gazed into hers like she was something waiting to attack, and she had felt how he gripped her with his entire body tense and ready to hold her off if he needed to. But he should have seen reason that there was not even any reason to think that she would attack or that he would need to hold her off. It was just an unfortunate case of muscle memory reacting to something that hasn’t happened in so long. How absolutely demeaning that he had reacted in such a way that made it seem like she had intimidated him.

What was he to be scared of?

Her father? He’s dealt with enough _palookas_ to know how to play the game of intimidation, and if that short-statured bastard thought that waving a gun all ballsy was enough to have him scared, then he’s got another thing coming, one way or another.

Of her? What could she do? Nothing, that’s what! She's so petite. So frail. So absolutely weak. She wouldn't have been able to fight if he tried to take what he’s wanted since he first laid eyes on her. What can she do about it? The naïve little thing, who would think him so low as to be scared of having her hold him the way she did?

His lack of control couldn’t possibly be just his to blame. She had done something to him to bewitch him so much that he ended up so fucking weak, and as much as he couldn’t understand what that may be, it was her doing, and it was her fault.

It was all Charlie’s fault.

“Al?”

When Husk called him out of his rumination, there was a change to his eyes that came out of the blue. Gone was that look of blurred hesitation, replaced with that familiar sharpness that signified deadly intent – a look that Husk had always associated him with.

And with that look, Alastor had become ascertained about one thing.

There was no way in Hell he was going to let Charlie Magne get away with this alive.

"Now, what makes you think I’m still not going to do it, Husker?” Alastor replied with certain cool-headedness. “I’m simply biding my time with her.”

Hearing that and seeing how that smile on his face somehow widen to become the most devious that it had been the entire night, it was enough to convince Husk that, despite these ‘unforeseen circumstances’, the murdering glint that was always present in the man’s eyes overshadowed any form of doubt that would come his way.

Husk felt kind of stupid now to think that something as trivial as that Magne girl could have possibly changed anything in Alastor to have him second-guessing his motives.

The man was _too far off the deep end_ , after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoever wants to punch Alastor in the face, say 'I'.
> 
> Looks like Charlie's not the only one in a dilemma with what had gone on that night, but Alastor's taking it way off the deep end with his decision on how to quell the issues. Ah boy, as if things couldn't get more complicated than it already is!
> 
> This arc's probably going to be the death of me, but I am being kept alive with all the love and support from all my lovely readers and followers on Twitter, who never fails to have a smile on my face. And as always, the beautiful fanart that has been blessing my feed! I've been getting so much fucked-up Alastors that I am going to frame that and hang it over my bed as a perfect reminder of my love for the idiot XD 
> 
> So thank you so much to my darlings Kirsche (@KirscheArt), Red (@REALRedustrial), Nancy Chavez (@Nancyplus100), eidinazavr (@eidinazavr), Emily Fleur (@EmilyFl92704508) and Angie Mullen (@i_amellow)! You lots are amazing for blessing SM with gorgeous art, so reader darlings, please do support them!
> 
> So, what's going to happen next here? Can things get any more complicated? (Spoiler: THEY CAN!) Stay tuned my darlings, and take care and stay safe!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Ethel – Effeminate man  
> Bim – Girl  
> Chivs – Cuts  
> Clean sneak - No clues left behind  
> Dumb Dora – Stupid girl  
> Canary – Female singer  
> Jingle – Somewhat drunk  
> Half-cocked – Half-drunk  
> Flat shoes – A complication between a couple  
> Doozy – Problem  
> Giggle juice – Alcohol  
> Mickey Finn – A spiked drink  
> Joint - Establishment  
> Jazzed – Drunken  
> Make whoopee – Have sex  
> Made – Recognised  
> Palooka – Stupid man  
> Too far off the deep end - Insane


	33. Green-Eyed Gaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Dawn was about to break, which meant that it was closing time.

Once the last _hoary-eyed_ patron had been chased out, the staff got to straighten the place up. Niffty occupied herself with cleaning up the tables and the floors until everything was spick and span with not an inch of filth left, while Husk was locking up the liquor cupboards and trying to sneak some last glugs from the watchful Rosie, who was busy counting the _mazuma_ they’ve made for tonight. On the side, Mimzy sat by herself, enjoying a smoke and a glass of sherry before turning in for the night.

The air was relatively quiet between the four as they did their own business, but there was a sort of uneasiness in Rosie, mainly stemming from the concern of her favourite’s behaviour tonight.

“Has anyone noticed something off with Alastor?” she mentioned quizzically. “The poor boy. He looked so bothered tonight. Must be having a lot of things on his mind.”

"Ah, well. Dames really can do an awful lot to a man."

Husk realised all too late that the answer had slipped past his lips, still somewhat _crocked_ to be more mindful of his tongue, and he could only curse under his breath when he realises that all eyes of the three ladies were right on him in question.

"What do you mean?" Mimzy asked sharply, an underlying tone of discontentedness at the statement.

Husk tried to brush the question off. “It’s nothing. It ain’t any of your businesses."

But Rosie was not going to let it go so easily. "Well, Alastor is as much as my friend as he is to you. Now come on, Husker. Tell us.”

“Yeah, Husk!” Niffty urged, excitable for a little bit of gossip. “Spill!”

Husk could only groan at the situation he’s gotten himself into, but nonetheless, he gave in. "Look. He's just having some issues with that little girly friend of his, okay?" he answered impatiently. “That’s it.”

The mention of Alastor’s ‘little girly friend’ sent Rosie’s eyes widening in bewilderment. "Wait… you mean he hasn't-"

“Yeah, he hasn’t,” Husk answered her before she could even finish her question. “And don't ask me why. All he said was that he’s biding his time with her."

“He’s still going to go through with killing her?” Niffty gasped in surprise. “Now ain’t that a shame! I thought he’d gotten _dizzy_ with her and would probably change his mind. I mean, he kissed her!”

Both Husk and Rosie shot Niffty a glare that effectively silenced her, and with good reason, considering how Mimzy was nearby and had definitely heard that. But the songstress said nothing, instead turning her face away from the rest of them as if to hide her face, and keeping relatively quiet.

Rosie broke the quietude, if only to quell Mimzy’s tense silence. “That just seems quite ridiculous,” she expresses, not sharing in Niffty’s speculation. “I doubt Alastor could actually… 'feel' for someone."

Husk, however, still had his speculations from his earlier conversation with him. But remembering the cold sick look Alastor had at the end, even he had to agree. "Even if he did, I doubt that it’s going to change anything,” he said nonchalantly. “This is Alastor we’re talking about. You'd never know what the bastard has under his sleeves. For all we know, he’s just faking it just to lure her in."

That did sound very plausible. Everyone in the room knew Alastor to be quite erratic in the way he ‘worked’, and his motives, however questionable, always ended up with a dead body. He was a creature of habit, and a bit of a sadist at that, knowing how he enjoys prolonging his ministrations to an unfortunate victim. So ingrained with such oddities was he that it was practically set in stone.

So, if he was truly taking his time with the girl and feigning a relationship, they can’t particularly say that it’s very peculiar of him.

"Hmm, that's a shame,” Rosie remarked with a shrug. “The girl's such a sweet darling. It's like harming an innocent animal."

"Again, this is Alastor,” Husk replied mundanely. “When's he ever cared for that? All he's concerned about is getting some meat in his stomach and moving onto the next unfortunate bird. In fact, he just told us he’d be needing some clean-up later on.”

Niffty seemed enthusiastic at the mention of another clean-up job, all ready to get her hands down for some good scrubbing. But she was still quite chirpy from the talk about Alastor, giggling playfully, "But hey! It would be funny, right? To think that Alastor might possibly fall in love. And you know what they say! Love can really change a person if it's true in the heart!"

At times, Niffty was just so gullible, and that had Rosie shaking her head in dismay. "You really give too much hope for a lost cause like Alastor, my girl," the proprietress sighed.

With the conclusion of the discussion regarding their friend, they each went back to finishing up their work so they could all turn in soon, the topic pushed to the back of their minds with the fading of concern.

However, it looked like it wasn’t the case for everyone, as it was with a chance look that Husk noticed the unpleasant frown that etched Mimzy, pulling her face into something as sour and as infuriated as it had been that fateful night.

At times, Niffty really ought to be more mindful to know when would be the right place and time to shut her mouth.

But it wasn’t Husk’s business with whatever petty grievances Mimzy would have, and thus, he made no mention of it. He knew better than to incur the wrath of a jealous woman.

* * *

Things haven’t actually gotten better ever since Vaggie got back.

The tension that had arisen during their unexpected and explosive fight lingered like a plague within the house, and neither girls were willing to approach each other amidst the apprehension. Charlie knew very well that she should have, but she just couldn’t bring herself to speak without fear of something turning out wrong all over again.

If only the house wasn’t so small, then keeping away from each other wouldn’t be like such a hurdle as it was now. Her best friend was like a ghost now, moving around the house quietly as if to keep herself hidden. Charlie had suspected that she even started rising earlier in the morning to get her errands and chores done quickly before keeping herself to her room as much as she could. But try as they may stay away from each other’s paths, at times they would end up being in the same room by accident.

Those were the moments that would hurt Charlie like a jab in the heart, because Vaggie would pointedly not acknowledge her presence, just doing whatever business she had in that room before leaving quickly. But still, Charlie wouldn’t try to stop her, trying for herself to not say anything.

This wasn’t the first sort of tiff they’ve ever had in their friendship, and usually, a little space would be enough to allow the hot-tempered girl to calm down before returning back to her kindly self. But with how terrible this conflict had been by far, Charlie wasn’t sure if time would be enough to properly make up to her.

Nonetheless, Charlie respected Vaggie’s decision and tried as she may keep herself preoccupied so that she wouldn’t have to endure the heavy thoughts that have been hurting her internally. At least there was still the hotel, where she has been spending as much time away from home in.

All the itinerary that she had ordered a couple of weeks before were starting to come in, and construction was even starting to take place to get the hotel as straightened up as possible. Angel hadn’t been too appreciative of the ruckus, but he was having a swell time in putting up the flirtations with some of the _bindle punks_. Charlie couldn’t be too sure if he had actually been successful in getting some down to _make whoopee_ , but she most certainly did not want to know, putting all her attention into getting the hotel back into tip-top shape.

And it seemed to be coming along just fine, especially when she received a telegram from Sir Pentious – honestly, she can’t believe that she’s forgotten all about him, but there had been more drastic things happening since then – who had informed her that he will be making his way down to New Orleans in a few days to take a look at the hotel and have further discussions regarding their future partnership.

That was such excitable news and a good prospect for progress. If only she could tell Vaggie about it, considering that she was her only confirmed staff for now, but it was probably too soon and won’t be a good reminder for her to know how she had come to meet Sir Pentious.

But as for now, she can’t let herself be ruled by her emotions and needed to focus on her work. So, first thing’s first, she needed to get herself prim and proper for the meeting.

It had been a while since she had treated herself to a haircut, and she noticed that her tresses were starting to get longer than the fashionable bob she liked. It’s about time she went for a trim and a perm, to at least treat herself to some quality personal time to soothe her from the distress that she’s been having lately.

She made an appointment with the most popular hair salon in New Orleans, which was already busy with clients getting their hair done. A polite young hairstylist directed her to an empty seat, setting aside her purse and hat on a table beside her and offering her a magazine before she had her wrapped in a sheet and got to work on Charlie’s hair.

Fixed to the chair, Charlie sat quietly with her copy of _Elite Styles_ , admiring the illustrations of the many beautiful outfits, and taking note of what was coming into trend in the coming months, while making small talk with the hairstylist, which eventually faded and filled with sounds of hairdryers and chit-chatting between the other clients.

The minutes passed by and before she knew it, she’s been there for a little more than an hour. It was nice to fall into the lull of leisure time, and she felt herself relax without paying much mind to what was going on around her. She only looked up once in a while to approve of a snip and glance at the perming irons that were hanging up in her hair.

For a while, her mind went blank with unimportant nothingness…

“Well, look who it is.”

The voice was vaguely familiar, and that had Charlie breaking out from her little blankness and looking up from her magazine to see a short and curvy lady beside her.

“Oh!” Her lips lifted into a polite smile in greeting. “Hello there, Mimzy!”

The singer from the speakeasy looked as gorgeous as the first time Charlie had seen her – face beautiful all made up with her eyes shining like emeralds framed by thick lashes, her tight dress flaunting voluptuous curves and a bosom that could put hers to shame, her _chassis_ shaped like a perfect hourglass that it sent many envious stares her way. 

“Charlie,” she greeted politely in a musical voice, a small smile as she settled into the seat next to hers. “My, what a coincidence. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Fancy seeing you here too!” Charlie replied cheerily as she set down her magazine in her lap. “Do you come here often?”

“Any chance I get when I’m back in New Orleans. This is one of the best salons in town.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve heard,” Charlie acknowledged, noting the proud smile on the hairstylist stationed for Mimzy. “It’s my first time here, but I’ll definitely take your word for it.”

Mimzy’s assigned hairstylist came to wrap her in the sheet, and Charlie couldn’t help but admire how she moved and spoke with a grace that seemed befitting to her looks. It was those like Mimzy that made her feel like such a little girl, though she was sure that she couldn’t have possibly been more than a few years older than her.

It did make her curious though, how such a woman could be friends with…

“So, you’re looking pretty for Alastor?”

Charlie had done very well to have pushed the thought of him out of her mind the entire day, but perhaps a little too well to not anticipate how it would have hurt her with a strong impact all over again when it resurfaced in her thoughts. Her smile dropped a bit, and she felt a tiny bit of hesitation at the question, dread filling her with the reluctance to talk about him.

But alas, it would be that she did not have a choice, not when it was one of his friends that had brought it up, and she couldn’t possibly be rude.

“Oh, no. I’m just here for a little touch-up on my hair. Nothing special.”

“Ah.”

Mimzy said nothing more to the statement, and what followed was a silence that was almost awkward on Charlie’s part, purely because his name had been mentioned. She didn’t know how to thread from there, and neither did she wish to continue on the topic of him, so she simply left it like that and looked back down at the opened page on her magazine quietly, although now her nerves were on end and she couldn’t relax as she did prior to this.

Unbeknownst to Charlie, Mimzy continued to subtly stare at her from the corner of her eyes as she had her hair twisted around the many perming irons that were hanging above her. In her quiet observation, she took in her looks, noting just how lovely and cherubic she looked, all softness with her sweet disposition. She could certainly see how pretty in her doll-likeness that she was to catch the attention of many, even Alastor himself.

Just that thought caused a stir in Mimzy that was almost tempted to grab the pair of scissors nearby to jam it right into her eyes or her forehead or anywhere on her face that could cause any sort of harmful disfigurement to the blasted wench. Even doing nothing, her entire being just seemed to infuriate Mimzy at the thought that this was the woman that had captured the attention of the man that she had been vying for years, reminded of that fact once more at the memory of the disgusting sight of him locking lips with her.

But in ladylike poise, she remained calm, telling herself over and over again that she was not about that life anymore, that she was not going to do it because doing it would potentially be a nail in the coffin for her career. Also, there were too many people in here – too many witnesses – so she could only use that as her reasoning to not act up.

However, there wasn’t any reason to not scope out her competition for a bit.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you two come about?”

The dread that Charlie was trying hard to suppress renewed immediately, sending an uncomfortable wave through her core, making her heart clench and her gut tight. And yet again, she kept up a front for the sake of courtesy, pushing her discomfort down to allow the conversation. 

“We’re neighbours,” she explained. “He came to my doorstep and introduced himself on the first day I moved in. So, it just happened from there.”

 _My, how times changed since then…_ Charlie thought to herself in dismay, but otherwise continued to keep mum of her situation, keeping the conversation going and returning the question to Mimzy. “And how did you two meet?”

Charlie thought that she had said that with an indifference that would leave the other none the wiser. However, she wasn’t so slick like she would have thought herself to be. The smile she kept on was now pursed a bit too tight in slight awkwardness, her eyes cloudy with unsettlement, and her voice thin in keeping a calm rhythm. From her own acute sense of awareness and wise with many experiences over time, Mimzy knew to tell that the unease was, without a doubt, concerning the man in question.

Though, like Charlie, she kept a pretence up, keeping her gaze casual as she replied, “We met by chance, and found out that we had mutuals. We shared something major in common, and we’ve been good friends ever since.”

A nod of acknowledgement along with a small smile. “I see. I don’t know much about Alastor’s friends. If I’d known better, I would have thought him a loner. He is such a private person, after all.”

Again, she had unknowingly let herself slip, with the lilt to her voice then resounding a ruefulness that went with the wistfulness in her eyes as she said that.

It sparked a little curiosity in within the curvier woman, along with a little fire of mischief.

“How well do you know Alastor, Charlie?” Mimzy asked.

Charlie couldn’t say that the question was welcomed since it only agitated her nerves further. But the genuinity of the question did get her into a deep think, pondering on how well she knew the man, thinking back to all their little get-to-knows and remembering only bits and pieces of himself like the fact that he was a foodie and that he was a true-blue New Orleanian. She had never been one to pry on anything unless he himself brought it up in a conversation, and what she knew about him were probably basic facts that were typical to know a friend, or a companion.

But then she got to thinking back on the events of the damning night – his behaviour, his minor panic attack and his scars all came flashing to the forefront of her mind – and admittedly, with all these recent major occurrences, even she would have to acknowledge that she truly didn’t know him well enough as a person to have expected such a treatment for him.

“Well, enough to know him sufficiently,” she replied, half-hearted, “but probably not as much as you would.”

Charlie had meant her answer as a casual response, an acknowledgement that her knowledge of Alastor might not be comparable to that of an old friend of his.

So, she was surprised to see Mimzy smirking in response.

“Of course, you wouldn’t,” Mimzy said confidently. “I knew him well enough to almost be engaged to him.”

If there was a moment that could stake a claim in being absolutely startling, it would be this one. That utterance even had their hairstylists who had been eavesdropping reeling, giving side-glances to each other at how absolutely out-of-turn this conversation was becoming. But their nosiness went ignored as Charlie couldn’t tear her gaze away from Mimzy, so taken aback that her mouth gaped open slightly as she stared at her with wide, unnerved eyes.

“…What?..”

“Yes.”

Seeing the way she looked so startled filled Mimzy with childish glee, like she had managed to one-up her in a way. At the same time, the look in her own eyes begun to shift, looking so striking and sharp that it looked like her gaze could cut steel, and with the severity came a sort of resentment that was undeniably directed to Charlie, making her swallow down an uncomfortable lump that had formed in her throat.

“He never mentioned anything about nearly being engaged before.” Charlie’s voice was small, almost meek, like someone that was in disbelief over some bad news that had been delivered. Her civil composition was starting to crack as anxiety started to rise, how it only intensified the dread that had been residing in her for the past couple of weeks. She wasn’t sure how to comprehend that new shocking information, disturbed to discover that Alastor had a sort of history with the woman in front of her.

That docility did nothing for Mimzy to sympathise, and she huffed indignantly. “There’s no reason for him to. Knowing him, I doubt he even had any intention to keep you around for long.”

The way she had said that, so haughty and prideful, struck Charlie in a different way.

Yes, she was still feeling unease at what she had just learned, but the implication of Mimzy’s demeaning words spurred a sort of irritation from the attempted jab at her pride. She’d been around enough women the likes of Mimzy to recognise what she was trying to get at. Her time with Helsa Von Eldrich and other high-society snoots had taught her that her patience and tolerance for sorts would always be minimal, and courtesy be damned.

Angel’s words started resonating through her again – to keep her head held high and her ego higher. And that was what she intended to do, though she was sure as hell not going to let her get away with _chinning_ like that so easily.

“Are you jealous?”

Absent now was the jumpiness in Charlie as the forwardness of her question was said with a narrowed gaze and squared shoulders, having Mimzy tilting her head curiously at this sudden change.

“Now, what gave you that idea?”

Charlie, however, only replied with a complacent smirk, “I mean, if you’re actually flaunting off a failed engagement to me like some sort of achievement, it says a lot, doesn’t it?”

Their hairstylists behind them, who were trying so hard to not make it obvious that they were still listening in, eyed Charlie’s smirtling reflection in the mirror with quiet astonishment, and they decided to stop fiddling with the contraptions in the ladies’ hairs and make themselves busy someplace else, because the ‘heat’ was getting too much for them.

In the friction that lingered in the air between them, Mimzy remained quiet as she eyed her hard, almost incredulous that she seemed to actually dare be bold with her, and it was then that Charlie started to not feel so small, fuelled by a need to not let the _pill_ have an inkling of a thought that she was weak in any sense. If anything, it gave her that bit of satisfaction to see how she was slowly forming into a sort of green-eyed monster with what had been thrown at her.

Mimzy clearly wasn’t going to let her get away with this little bravado so easily, and she angled her body slightly towards her, looking ridiculous with the perming irons in her hair as she put on a stance of a more open confrontation.

“You really think somebody like you would top over me for Alastor?” she questioned patronisingly. “Don’t make me laugh, sweetie.”

It was honestly ridiculous for Charlie to grasp the fact that she was actually going to get involved in a _beef_ with somebody she didn’t know well over a man, and in a salon of all places. She would have thought herself to be a better person than that, to know how to better pick her fights.

But Mimzy had started it, and Charlie wasn’t one to be a _weak sister_.

“If I wanted to laugh, I’d do it at your feeble attempt of putting me down.”

If she hadn’t given such a damn to the fact that she was out in the open with so many people around her, or for the sake of her own reputation as a reformed individual, Mimzy would not have hesitated to jump on the little bitch. Screw the scissors; she would’ve just gone with clawing her smug _mug_ bloody, and her fingers practically shook at the urge to get itself dirty.

“Confident, huh?” she spat, tone now filled with venom. “Well, we’ll see if you still want to be all cocky about it once he’s through with you like all the other _janes_.”

At that said, Charlie’s expression flickered.

“What?”

Mimzy saw how she shrank, and that brought an ugly curl to her lips as she grinned, looking like a cat that got the cream in finding what she could use to regain back an upper-hand. She leaned forward, eyes as menacing as her tone when she asked, “Tell me this, doll. Do you even know what he does with girls like you?”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Charlie asked, her patience waning as her voice tethered on nervous apprehension. “What are you trying to get at?”

“Darling, surely you know that Alastor’s got quite the reputation around town?” Mimzy gave an insincere look and tone of concern at Charlie’s uncertainty. “I mean, what with him being the most popular radio host and all, it isn’t any surprise that he’s a real _lounge lizard_ , don’t you know? He’s like a _boozehound_ taking shots; one after another. Once he’s done with a girl, he’s quick to move on.”

Of course, Charlie would never guess that what Mimzy had meant by it was what Alastor really did to all those unfortunate bitches who thought that he’d even been interested to strike up something with them, unknowing that they were just to simply satisfy his minacious appetite. And now, she felt that maybe she should just speed up the process and do the job for him, to also satisfy the growing bloodlust in her at the _patsy_ ’s impudence.

But Alastor was a possessive man when it came to his targets; she knew that very well about him. So, she kept her urges at bay, knowing not to take what he had his sights on, much to her absolute chagrin, and would simply have to settle with planting that seed of doubt.

“Look, honey, you ought not to kid yourself. It’s really sweet, for you to think that he would ever pay much attention to a little belle like yourself like you’re _the real McCoy_ , but I’d say you better cut your losses if you think he’d ever keep you around for long.”

That declaration came with a tone of finality, and it had Charlie reeling in admixture of shock, dread and hurt to was intensifying the more her mind was wrapping itself around that new piece of information. The front she was trying to keep was collapsing, and it was undeniable that the whole situation now felt like she was having salt rubbed on an unhealed wound.

“I don’t believe you,” she stated, adamant to not believe the _jive_ that was coming out of Mimzy’s mouth. But it was thin and unconvincing, like a plea to something futile.

Mimzy, in all her smugness, only brought her fingers to her stained lips as if to demurely hide her chuckle.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m afraid you might’ve not known him well enough to know how he’s really like.”

It was at those words that the cracks in Charlie’s heart finally made it shatter.

To hear that being said to her so matter-of-factly, now that stung. It felt like a slap to the face, knocking her with common sense that she had been pushing into denial for so long. It only reminded her of the first time she heard that being said to her, by Angel when they were at the train station, remembering how he had told her to not “worry yourself over some _boob_ who’s treating you like some _hangover montage_ ”.

And yet still, just to appease herself, she had held on to the belief to give Alastor the benefit of a doubt, to wait for him to come to her to explain himself, and to anticipate the moment that they would come together again and clear things up and continue on with whatever they had between them.

Clearly, that was all for nothing.

And now, it irked Charlie. It irked her so much to realise that she had let herself be fooled. It made her feel so stupid and so naïve, to think that she could have gone this long to believe that he might have a logical reason for doing what he did, to still have faith in a man that she finally realised she knew absolutely nothing about and had played with her feelings this entire time.

This whole time, Alastor had probably played with her, thinking of her as nothing more than a game.

And that was enough.

She’s decided she’s had enough.

And with Mimzy adding fuel to the fire, Charlie knew she had heard enough. Too much, even.

It seemed like a blessing in disguise that the hairstylist who had returned to unwrap her hair from the perming irons seemed eager to get her task over and done with so as to remove herself from the tense situation as quickly as possible. The moment was rushed when she asked if Charlie was satisfied with the results, to which she only impatiently nodded and wanted nothing more than to have the sheet finally taken off her, and it couldn’t have happened any faster.

With all the patience she had left to muster, she turned to Mimzy with a hot glare. “Look, Miss Mimzy, I don’t know what you’re trying to play at with me, but I’d say you absolutely wasted your time trying to give me an _earful_. It doesn’t matter anything to me, anyway.”

“Oh?” Mimzy asked with a quirk of a brow. “Are you sure about that?”

There was a bite to her words, like she was challenging her to make another rebuttal. But Charlie refused to do so, having enough of this conversation, and enough of the pain that the topic of him brought to her.

“Yes, because Alastor and I are done.”

For the first time since she sat next to Charlie, Mimzy’s expression softened into one of surprise and confusion, and she definitely looked keen to find out what was the story behind that statement. But no way was Charlie going to reveal the issues that she was facing with him, for fear of losing face considering she was one of Alastor’s friends, and also to not bruise her own ego in revealing a weakness.

She simply set aside her magazine, and picked up her things. “Lovely talk,” Charlie said in a tone dripping with sarcasm. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave.”

Charlie did not spare another glance in Mimzy’s direction as she walked off to the counter, and soon out of the salon.

Even with the surprising revelation at the end that had caught her off-guard, Mimzy was filled with a sort of gratification at how uppity Charlie’s turned, and her wicked heart was thumping with a sort of pride, gloating internally at her ability to get the doll hurting without the jab of scissors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are just getting higher and higher, and looks like Mimzy's being super helpful in thumping down Charlie's last bits of patience with Alastor. I wonder if this would all be worth it?
> 
> With that being said, I wonder how things are going to proceed for our beloved couple? Well, considering that things are definitely not taking a turn for the better, I guess we can only expect it to be much worse!
> 
> I hope you darlings are keeping yourself sane with this current Covid-19 situation! Life's been a struggle, and there's so many drastic changes, so please be taking good care of both your health and your well-being!  
> I have to admit, I'm not immune to it. Being cooped up and having terrible cabin fever really did a number on me for this chapter, which had to be rewritten because I felt like the original was just not good enough, and churning out words is exhausting! But I'm happy with it, and I hope you are too!
> 
> You lot of Twitter and the Charlastor Trashbin Discord have been nothing but a saving grace to me, and I am so thankful that you guys are like my anchor during these times.
> 
> And not to forget the amazing fanart that's been filling my soul as well! God, there's been so many 'Alastor is screwed' art that I'm starting to have a collection of it on my gallery XD I keep going back to look at every single one of them, and honestly, I am so taken aback that so many of you could create such gorgeous works from my silly story. So thank you to my lovely darlings!:
> 
> Rachell (@AnimatesN)  
> Scipunk (@scipunk63)  
> Elcutaryie (@elcutaryie)  
> Molly (@galacticspud)  
> Kirsche (@KircscheArt)  
> Buttercup (@Buttercup_Mint)  
> Deya (@DeyaMela)  
> Gamme (@GamergirlUprise)  
> Danie (@Eve_Danie)  
> Eidinazavr (@eidinazavr)  
> JellyBearBug (@bug_jelly)
> 
> There's only one thing I can say now;  
> You really got a few hurdles coming your way, Alastor. 
> 
> Until next chapter!
> 
> 1920s slangs:
> 
> Hoary-eyed – Drunk  
> Mazuma – Money  
> Crocked - Drunk  
> Dizzy – In love  
> Bindle punks – Labourers  
> Make whoopee – Have sex  
> Chassis – The frame of a woman’s body  
> Chinning – Talk  
> Pill – Unpleasant person  
> Weak sister – Pushover  
> Janes – Girls  
> Lounge-lizard – Womaniser  
> Boozehound – Alcoholic  
> Patsy - Fool  
> The real McCoy – Something genuine; the real deal  
> Jive – Unpleasant talk  
> Boob – Stupid man  
> Hangover montage – One-night stand  
> Earful – Lecture


	34. Heated Exchanges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

“This keeps up and the whole city might have to just stay inside.”

That begrudging statement came with the slap of a newspaper on Tom’s table, putting up front the bolded headline of the day.

**_NEW ORLEANS AT UNREST AS MISSING CASES CONTINUE TO RISE_ **

As the boss blew smoke rings, Tom picked up the newspaper and gestured to the headline. “How is it possible that there isn’t even one lead? Not even a single hair?” he exclaimed in astonishment. “If you ask me, the cops are really slacking off.”

“Or the captor knows how to clean up after himself well.”

That sudden proclamation came with looks to Alastor, who was preoccupied with shifting through notes for his broadcast the next day, a half-smoked cigarette dangling in his fingers before going to his lips for a puff. He didn’t seem interested in the conversation that was going on, but his answer definitely caught their attention.

“How would you know?” Tom questioned.

Alastor removed the cigarette from his lips to show a knowing smile. “My friend, to understand the circumstance, you’d need to put yourself in the shoes of the miscreant,” he explained deliberately. “If the _coppers_ can’t find a single piece of evidence, it’s because he wants to make sure that they don’t. A _clean sneak_ , and a good one to continuously elude the _hammer and saws_.”

A pause to take another puff of his _gasper_ , before finishing off his statement with a twinkle in his eyes.

“And of course, the best way to make a person missing forever is to completely get rid of them.”

With that being said to a couple of weirded-out looks, Tom wondered, “So, you’re saying it’s all murder?”

The mention of that word had Alastor feeling a bit tickled, but he hid that sensation with a simple shrug. “Sounds like it. What with those two young boys and the crime scene down at Lafayette not too long ago, kind of sounds like it lines up together, don’t you think?”

“Jesus Christ, it’s going to be like ‘The Axeman’ all over again!” remarked the boss with a wave of his cigar. “Before you know it, we might even have to play jazz through the streets to appease the wretched soul.”

Once more looking at the newspaper headline, Tom scratched the back of his head nervously. “Well, if it is some sort of murderer on the loose, I really don’t want to find myself facing him.”

Alastor suddenly chuckled to himself, shaking his head in amusement, not paying mind to how Tom was looking at him confused, like he had somehow told some sort of funny joke. Creeped out, he grumbled something to himself under his breath, but by then Alastor was back to ignoring everything else and focusing on his work, reading through the type-outs of tomorrow’s broadcasts that highlighted the new rise of missing cases, really taking note on how staggering the numbers were now as compared to the past few weeks.

My, had he really not been paying attention when he went on that spree? He must have been very negligent to not pay attention to how much he was indulging himself. He’d probably really have to take Husker’s advice into consideration and slow down for the time being to not arouse further suspicion.

Alastor’s pondering was cut short when he noticed from the corner of his eyes that his boss was approaching him.

“Ah, Al, before I forget…”

He pulled out a few letters from his inner jacket pocket, placing them on the corner of Alastor’s desk. His eyes snapped to the thin stack, already knowing of what they were.

“More letters for that ‘rehabilitation hotel’. You ought to tell your friend to give them an address so that it’ll head to the right place. Don’t wanna keep ferrying letters.”

Alastor was quiet as he stared at the letters, looking at them with a sort of contemplation. Nonetheless, he took the letters in his hand and tapped it on the edge of his desk to get them in order.

“Will do,” he replied, with a smile that wouldn’t leave anyone knowing his doubts.

* * *

Even with his decision made to continue, Alastor had still waited patiently for the right time to make his move.

He didn’t think it smooth to appear before Charlie without a good reason beforehand and had been thinking over how to approach her after all these weeks. At times, instances almost had him wanting to go up to her house as he usually did to give the same sort of greeting, just to get things over and done with so that he wouldn’t have to waste any more time.

But still, the hesitation remained, and it was becoming more evident now when he was approaching her house. It was lit, indicating that someone was home. Whether it be her or her roommate or both, he didn’t seem too overly enthusiastic about seeing anyone from that house. He even thought that probably he should just drop the letters off in front of her door, maybe even slide under it into her foyer for good measure.

As much as he was firm with his decision, it would be a lie to say that he did not still have some reservations, and the time that had passed since that night at the speakeasy to this moment had riddled him with various questions.

Was he truly ready to face her again now?

Was he prepared to stand right in front of her, with her _chassis_ in his direct sight and the centre of his attention?

Was he sure that he wouldn’t feel that bothersome sensation that’s been haunting him for the past couple weeks, tempting him to fall for her siren’s call?

Unfortunately, he did not know the answer for himself.

However, deep down, he knew he shouldn’t delay it any longer, because if not now, then when?

His footsteps were quiet as he made his way up the steps of her front porch, and it was when he finally faced the familiar front door that he realised that this was it, and there was no turning back on what he had decided for himself, and he wasn’t going to allow reluctance to stop him any more.

With a quiet breath, he brought his hand to give the door a few good raps.

It was met with silence at first, but then Alastor heard movement from inside, the quiet pattering of light steps as it hurried to answer the door. Then came the fussing with the locks of the door, and he found himself holding his breath as the lock was finally released, the hinges of the door starting to move as it opened.

And lo and behold, there stood Charlie.

Her doe eyes immediately widened when it met his, a flurry of emotions passing through those bright orbs with fervour, her lips parted in her silent surprise but no words coming out.

His reaction was a whole lot more subtle compared to hers, with his heart starting to thrum as he took in the sight of her that he had self-deprived himself of for the past few weeks. The longer he stared, the faster it beat, racing like how his mind was now flashing thoughts of their night together.

It was maddening how just the sight of her could spike him with sensations that were akin to both a thrill and a panic, and against his determination, it was starting to confuse him, and hit him smack in the face with doubt, uncertain of whether he had been right to think that he could bear to stand right here in front of her and not succumb to the urge to reach out and grab her and finish her off as he should have done.

It was only a miracle that Alastor did not break under pressure, willing himself to straighten his back and pull his smile to the widest, ever polite in offering her his greetings.

“Hel-”

The door slammed shut in his face.

And then it opened again, with Charlie looking at him in sheer disbelief.

“-lo.”

And it shut again.

Alastor did not move, frozen with his mouth hanging open with the finishing of that sentence, reeled in shock by what had just happened.

Did Charlie actually slam the door in his face?

My, how angry she must have been.

However, even with that sort of dismissal, he was aware that she hadn’t actually moved away from the foyer, because he noticed the light thud against the door that sounded like a forehead pressing against the wood.

He knew she was still there, waiting.

How the tables have turned, considering that just a week ago, this was the scenario that Alastor had found himself in whenever she would show up at his doorstep, calling for his name and asking him if he was home and if he could answer, while he would be on the other side listening to her in agonising silence and waiting patiently for him to go away.

But he would not do what Charlie did, pride telling him to not lose the composure he would need for this encounter. Instead, he opted to wait patiently, giving it a few more seconds until he would feel the need to knock the door again to get her attention.

And waiting definitely paid off, for about less than a minute later, the door opened once more, this time kept open by Charlie.

“You got a lot of nerve showing up here.”

Yes, for certain, she was definitely very upset. If it wasn’t obvious in her words, it was clear in the glare that she had fixed on him with tightly-pressed lips and her voice that was low with hard contempt.

Any man in the right mind would think to come up with various reasons to scram if they saw a lady upset with their actions. But not Alastor, no. He knew that this was probably what he had coming, and he didn’t want to waste mustering up all that courage for it to fall flat on his end.

Alastor cleared his throat, before asking politely, “May I speak now?”

Hesitation flashed across Charlie’s face. She looked down as if she was pondering on what was the right way to say ‘no’, and her hand trembled as if ready to throw it close once again in supposed refusal. But alas, she released her hold and only brought her arms to be folded against her chest, giving him a distasteful look.

“You may.”

Her tone was calmer, but the apprehension about her was still clear. He could at least count his blessings that she was making an attempt to be civil to him, rude first greeting aside, but he was unsure on how to progress with the conversation without possibly triggering her.

He settled for asking, “How have you been, Charlie?”

“Really?” Charlie said as she raised a brow sceptically, the corner of her lips down and pulling her face into a slight grimace. “Disappear on me for the past few weeks and you thought you could come here stringing niceties as if nothing ever happened.”

Golly, she certainly had a bite to her now, but unlike the feistiness that would usually stem from a bout of confidence or excitement, this was underlying with embitterment. Again, he couldn’t say he hadn’t expected it, and he had no choice but to face the consequences of his actions and try to settle it as best as he could.

“I understand that you may have been upset...”

“'May have been’?” Charlie cut him off, sounding all incredulous. “My, that is such an understatement.”

Right off the bat, trying to lead up to the topic was not working very well, and Charlie’s bad mood wasn’t making things easy for Alastor, who didn’t see a point to beat around the bush or deal with jabs like that. But still, he kept his cool, knowing what was at stake here if he didn’t maintain a basis of civility, so he had no choice but to give her face.

Alastor could only sigh, deciding to cut to the chase. With a lowered voice that he could muster as gently and apologetic as he could, he began.

“Charlie, whatever it is that happened, I will acknowledge that it was a very inapt move on my part and that I had probably caused you some distress on my absence. It’s not very appropriate of me as a gentleman to simply leave you hanging without a word.”

He paused, seeing if she was going to interject something once more, but Charlie remained quiet, simply watching him and waiting for him to continue, which he did.

“For that, I apologise, and I do hope that we may be able to move forward from this.”

Alastor would have to admit that it felt like a relief to have all that off his chest. It had been weighing on him for the past few days, having contemplated hard on what he wanted to say to Charlie. He hadn’t been caught in such a situation before, but he knew through common knowledge of women to be very sensitive, and he was careful to string his apology the best way that he could, until he was sure that his sentences could be deemed acceptable to placate her.

“Is that really all you have to say?”

So clearly, he may have been a bit too sure of himself on that note, because her response completely ran down his expectations.

Alastor froze, staring with wide eyes and raised eyebrows at Charlie, who was really looking as if she could have veins throbbing in her neck from how hard she was glaring at him with a face that was beginning to look flushed pink in anger.

“You think you can just stroll right up to my front door after three weeks of ghosting me, just say you’re wrong and you ‘probably’ hurt me and just be all woebegone on how much you weren’t acting like a gentleman, and expect me to accept your apology and just simply agree to ‘move forward from this’?”

Alastor’s lips parted to reply, but he could not, as Charlie continued in her tirade.

“You’re just going to be blind to the fact that you just vamoosed from my bed and seemingly from my whole life, and you aren’t even going to acknowledge all of the times I came up to your door, knocking and calling out your name because I was worried that I might have done something wrong to you, and you got me waiting for your answer like some desperate _sap_?”

Alastor could only watch in astonished silence as she sounded off at him, voice growing higher though not to the point where she was almost shouting at his face. Charlie was clearly showing a lot of restrain in doing so, so much that the floodgates were looking to be almost bursting when he noticed the way her eyes were becoming wetter. He was starting to get quite concerned, both for her and the growing unsettlement in him, but he was wholly unprepared to deal with such a thing, never having been one to be comfortable with crying. He was uncertain about what else to do except to remain silent.

When she felt the first tear stream down her face, Charlie groaned and turned her head away, whatever remained of her ego from the past few weeks forcing her to not show weakness to him. She wiped away the droplet quickly and found it stained with flecks of coal and Vaseline. She wiped both eyes just in case there were streaks of mascara, breathing exasperatedly, “Just great. Such good timing.”

In her distraction, Alastor took this pause as a breather for him to come up with something to say in response, and it was then that he finally took notice of how she looked. Her hair was shorter with a new perm, and she was all made-up she was in her cosmetics and her attire, looking too presentable than what could be appropriate for a stay-in at home.

“Off somewhere?” he asked suddenly out of curiosity.

Charlie sniffled, still not facing him as she wiped at her cheeks and lower lashes as gently as she could. “I have a meeting over dinner,” she answered in a mutter, voice tight from trying to hold down the crying.

A ‘dinner meeting’?

Somehow, that did not sit well with him. It started a twinge in his gut that made him feel something that he was not familiar with, pushing him to question, “Are you seeing somebody?”

Charlie frowned. “For a meeting,” she reiterated. “What does it matter to you?”

Why does it matter to him? He wasn’t completely sure why, but it probably had something to do with the sudden fury boiling up inside him at the thought that she was all done up for somebody that wasn’t him, and there was an urge to know who the supposed lucky bastard was, and just how dare Charlie be looking pretty for him.

Alastor’s smile went tight, though his overall expression was starting to sour as he forced himself to say, “My, are you really moving on so quickly?”

For a moment, Charlie wasn’t sure if she had heard him right, but seeing how grave his eyes were as he looked down at her, her heart was starting to race as her blood surged hot with a new wave of anger, feeling absolutely outraged at what he had just said.

“My, Mr. Carlon. You’re one to talk,” Charlie sneered in a manner that was unbefitting for a lady, but screw manners if this was how he was going to act. “I’d never expected you to be a _cake-eater_ , but I wouldn’t have imagined you to be a hypocrite as well!”

When she spat that derogatory term at him, it broke him out of his anger in that split second to be taken aback and riddled in confusion. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Charlie replied brusquely.

The definitiveness of her statement only faltered him further into puzzlement. “Unfortunately, I can’t say I do,” he replied calmly, because truly, he had no clue what she was going on about.

He looked confused, but something in Charlie was telling her that it was all a farce, that he was just playing dumb. It couldn’t be ascertained, but in the frazzled state of mind she was in, she chose to follow with that niggling thought, which only infuriated her, as well as making whatever patience she could muster to fall short.

“Oh, please. Stop lying to me, will you? Mimzy told me enough!”

The mention of that name startled Alastor, his brows drawing together with lines forming between them as he stared at Charlie with a confused gaze. “Mimzy?” he said, bewildered. “What does Mimzy have anything to do with this?”

“I don’t know, Alastor. Maybe you should check with your almost-fiancée about this supposed inclination to take girls like a ‘ _boozehound_ takes shots’.”

That alone was enough for Alastor to deduce that, somehow or rather, Charlie had come across Mimzy, and the singer had definitely provided a fib on part of her jealousy towards the doll to rile her up in such a way, and fuelled this animosity from her towards him.

But honestly, how taken aback he was at what he was accused of. A _cake-eater_? How ridiculous! He may have been a lot of things, but a womaniser was definitely not one of them!

“Now, my dear, that’s just nonsense!” Alastor opined defiantly. “You’d honestly take Mimzy’s word for mine?”

The way he looked at her absolutely baffled and stupefied was almost gut-wrenching to Charlie as her mind unwillingly thought back to the unfriendly encounter in the salon just a couple days ago and all the unpleasantries she had to hear for herself. As much as she had proclaimed that she did not believe it, she still ended up finding herself on edge because it was simply hurtful, intensified by the anxiety that had been plaguing Charlie for all those weeks. And unfortunately, Alastor’s lacklustre apology hadn’t been doing good in quelling any of those thoughts.

“At this point, I don’t know whose word to take! But what I do know is that one way or another, you’re a liar!”

The anger that was slowly burning him up from inside would have shot out in a quick retaliation if a sudden movement hadn’t caught his eye. With a glance at the shadow that was lingering at the top of the stairs, his indignation grew at the damned _pachuca_ who was listening in where it was not her business, though no soon after he caught sight of her silhouette, she backed away from her hiding spot to become relatively unseen, though he was pretty sure she could still hear their exchange.

Charlie did not realise the new presence. Emotions were running really high at the moment, with her heart starting to thrum so hard and her breathing was becoming so shallow that she was afraid that she might possibly pass out from her little panic. But out of spite, and despite the need to just run and hide away somewhere in her sorrow, she would not allow herself to succumb to crying again, defiant to this by keeping her heated gaze focused on Alastor.

“You’ve already gotten what you want with me. Charmed me and strung me along, played your games and such,” she said in a trembling voice that was choking back tears. “But I’m not blind to it anymore, and I hope you’ve had your fun.”

Charlie spat those words out with as much venom as she could muster in her anger, and this was not received well by Alastor, whose eyes flickered back to her with strong agitation at the way this conversation was going, thinking it to be slanderous to his person, and not appreciating how indecorous Charlie was behaving towards him. Thus far, it was almost accusation after accusation being thrown at him, and it was only so much that he could tolerate before deciding that he had enough of all these nonsensical barbs from her.

“Charlie, I would advise you to not put words into my mouth,” Alastor told her with a tone that was level-headed yet firm. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Charlie, on the other hand, retorted, “If I don’t know what I’m talking about, then you tell me; what is the truth then?”

The question came with an underlying yearning – to have her questions answered, to have her suspicions be proven false, and to have Alastor actually say it to her in a way that was sincere and genuine for her to believe. Because even in this stormy state of mind she felt trapped in, all she wanted was to believe.

However, Alastor only smirked rather insincerely, and shook his head.

“You don’t deserve the truth.”

To say that whatever she had gone through – all that she had heard and encountered for the past few weeks – had been heart-breaking, would be nothing compared to hearing Alastor say it for himself.

 _… You don’t deserve the truth …_

As the words rang through her mind, Charlie was stunned into silence, and try as she may, she couldn’t stop the tears that were already falling from her eyes. She felt so ashamed to cry, scolding herself in her irate frustration for crying over a man that was saying such a thing to her like it was nothing.

But she couldn’t help it. She was furious at him, wondering why he couldn’t have he had to play her dirty like that, making her waste all that time and effort to grow feelings for him. It was all so wasted, how she spent those last few weeks agonising what was already clear-cut from since it’s been brought up from both Angel and Mimzy. And how wasted it was that she hadn’t had realised that sooner, because now she was left in her shame to crumble at hearing Alastor saying it for himself.

As she was stuck in her stupor, Alastor was eyeing her hard with his emotions masked under an aloof stare. The smile that remained on his lips was small, not making his eyes crinkle as she was so used to seeing, looking more reserved than usual. Yet there was still something in the way he smiled that irritated her.

She knew him well enough to know that he had good control over his emotions – even times when he seemed charged, his composure was as solid as stone. But to have him just look at her with not a bit of concern in his eyes, it was just too much. It was like he was mocking her and how she was behaving.

How could he still be smiling when he had just seen her burst into tears and getting so verklempt over what he had put her through? How could he seem so cold and unsympathetic to what he had done to her? How could he just stand there and watch her breaking from inside as her heart shattering right before his very eyes?

_… No more …_

_… No …_

_…No more…_

“You’re right. I probably don’t,” Charlie said in defeat, shoulders slumped and weary from the dejection. “And since you think so, I want to end it here.”

Alastor’s eyes widened just the slightest bit, looking almost taken aback at the implication that she had just delivered with that declaration. Still, he only remained quiet, not saying anything, not showing anything that could be an indication of what he was feeling.

Happy?

Relived?

Upset?

Angered?

Charlie didn’t know, even if she stared at him forever to dissect, but honestly, she couldn’t bring herself to care about what he was feeling, not when she was in shambles.

“With that said, is there anything else you’re here for?” she asked quietly, her voice small as it held down the cries that were threatening to burst from her throat, yet her mean streak was stubborn to keep her looking with a mean stare.

Alastor’s eyes remained locked on her glare as he pulled out the thin stack of letters from his jacket pocket and held it out to her. “Letters for the hotel,” he informed straightforwardly, voice infuriatingly steady and normal. “The boss asked if you could provide an address to have it all forwarded to you in the future.”

Charlie took the letters from his hand immediately, making sure to not allow any touch between their fingers, because such a thing would not do good for her in such a state.

“I’ll write to him personally and work out everything from there,” she replied in a rush, desperately wanting to be out of this conversation and have him out of her face. “Now if there is nothing else, I hope you have a good evening, Mr. Carlon.”

Only then did Charlie allow herself to break in emotion just the slightest bit, the rushed bidding of farewell accompanied with the door slammed for the third time in his face, the gust of wind from the quick and harsh action hitting him and stunning him like a bolt from the blue.

Alastor remained standing there, silent as he stared at the space that Charlie had stood, now looking at nothing else but the white varnish of her door, astonished at what had just occurred.

Just then, the door flew open again, much to his consternation when Charlie stuck a hand out to push it into his chest.

“And you can take this back as well.”

The sudden contact had his heart jolting, mildly triggered at being touched. Upon reflex, Alastor’s hands barely managed to catch what she had pushed to him before the door was slammed shut once more, and this time with a finality that came with the sound of locks being put back into place.

Alastor could only stare dumbfounded at the white of the wood for a few seconds before looking down at the object in his hand.

It was his monocle.

He honestly hadn’t realised that she still had it, realising only then that he must have left it there by accident when he had left her house the last time. His thumb traced the wire ring surrounding the circular glass in perplexed contemplation, his mind still in the process of comprehending what had happened.

He hadn’t known what to expect to happen when they met again, but this had definitely taken a turn that he had not foreseen, and much to his chagrin.

To anyone else, he would not have the patience for such absurd behaviour, thinking it to be weak and pathetic to emote as such, and honestly, it was quite disappointing to witness it coming from Charlie. Even if she may have reasonably had a right to be upset, he did not like the way she had treated and spoke to him, so brash and uncouth that it definitely rubbed him the wrong way.

And on top of that, it was like she was putting the cherry on top by having the gall to do that while being all dolled-up for some ‘dinner meeting’.

With a new flare that had erupted from that thought, he would have liked as much to find out where she was heading to and see who exactly she was having her ‘dinner appointment’ with. But even bruised as he was right now, he still had his own moral standards to upkeep, and there was no way he was going to stoop so low as to follow her like some sort of lovelorn stalker, especially now when she’s decided to end things between them.

If she wanted to be stubborn in her own beliefs of him, then so be it.

He’d find other ways to take what he wanted.

Yes… Even with this unfortunate ‘mishap’, Alastor was resolute in attaining his goals to still get his hands on Charlie Magne, and he would not rest until his fingers were on her like how it was now wrapped around the monocle, trembling as it squeezed – any harder and he might even break glass! – thinking how now, with such frivolities set aside, there would be no more unnecessary distractions to what he wished to achieve.

Still! It was just so irritating that things have definitely become far more complicated than he would have anticipated, and all because a certain somebody felt the need to open her trap and become so meddlesome.

Succumbing to the agitation of his thoughts, Alastor finally tore away from where he stood to make his way down the porch steps, turning in the direction of his home. However, he did not make it up the path of his front porch, instead continuing to walk, passing by his house and going down the route that he had come from, his anger following him in his path and looming over him like an overhanging thundercloud.

He definitely needed to have a little talk with Mimzy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter so much.
> 
> Like, no doubt about it, I hate it, because BOTH OF THEM ARE BEING SO STUBBORN IT'S SO INFURIATING. Alastor, my man! Can you NOT be a dick for once? What sort of shit apology was that?! And Charlie, my darling! You got to at least hear him out clearly and give him a sock to the face! Now, look at what you two did! You made the complicated become more complicated and you're just hurting me and our darling readers!
> 
> Well! That was certainly a whirlwind of angst to top off all angst that I don't think I can take the angst anymore! But it seems I'm still sane enough to get through the week and not lose my mind over our troublesome two, even with the burning desire to YEET Alastor into a swamp!
> 
> With that being said, my darlings, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and would painstakingly stick by to find out how our devastated lovers could possibly find their way back! And before I forget! Here are cheers to all the lovely artists who's blessed Smiling Man with more beautiful art!:
> 
> Buttercup (@Buttercup_Mint)  
> Kirsche (@KircscheArt)  
> Gabi (@27kiane)  
> Eidinazavr (@eidinazavr)  
> Khabee (@khabee_)  
> Annie (@AnnieTonic)  
> Wolfie (@pieofpieee)  
> ZD101 (@ZD10110)
> 
> With trembling fists, I am just so pumped with excitement with seeing some certain comeuppances served! (Hewhewhew) So, stay tuned for the next chapter! 
> 
> Side note; Mimzy is going to be so fucked. 
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Coppers - Police  
> Clean sneak - Escape without any evidences  
> Hammer and saws - The law  
> Gasper - Cigarette  
> Chassis - The female figure  
> Sap - Pathetic person  
> Cake-eater - Womaniser  
> Pachuca - Term for a female Mexican living in America (not correct as Vaggie is Salvadoran)  
> Trap - Mouth


	35. Closing the Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: BLOOD AND VIOLENCE

The Sun had set, and Rosie’s Emporium had closed for the night and had made way to start operations for the underground establishment. But Niffty was still out at the storefront, doing a final sweep in making sure all the antiques were spotless before heading down to her night duties.

As she was in the middle of furiously polishing a set of sterling silverware and making sure they shone, she suddenly heard the bell chime. The distraction was much unappreciated, annoying the girl that she was being bothered at some stupid customer who apparently couldn’t read the ‘Closed’ sign.

“Sorry!” she exclaimed in a loud squeaky voice. “But we’re clo-”

The visitor paid no mind to Niffty, and it was only after he wordlessly walked past her to the particular bookshelf that she jumped.

“Mister Al!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

It wasn’t really a norm for Alastor to be here this early. He would usually come around the later parts of the night, when the speakeasy was already in full swing with its selected patrons, so the visit was definitely a surprise. Even more curious was the fact that he seemed to be in an urgent hurry, already pushing aside the books on that one particular shelf and knocking rapidly on the wood for entrance.

“Oh, just here to visit our dear Mimzy is all, little darling!”

He wasn’t facing her when he spoke, and Niffty would have thought nothing of it until she saw the look of his side-profile, noticing the way he looked somewhat out-of-sorts, and there was something about that look that was just giving her the _heebie-jeebies_ , and made her gut sink at the mention of her best friend. But before she could ask what was wrong, the door had been opened, and Alastor was already making his way down the steps.

Husk, somewhat half-asleep and nursing a _hair of the dog_ to soothe his hangover from the previous night, was just sitting behind the bar and paying no mind to the very few patrons around when he suddenly noticed Alastor walking brusquely through the _joint_. Like Niffty, his appearance caught him off-guard, wondering why the hell he was doing here so early, and why he was making his way to the backrooms where the performers were.

Alastor had never often found himself in these parts of the speakeasy since he relatively had no business there, but he navigated his way easily, remembering which room in particular was the singer’s dressing table. Luckily for him, the band members were currently up on stage already playing some tunes, which left the back area relatively empty and its silence shrouded by noise.

Finding the particular door, he gave it a few sharp knocks, which were promptly answered with an invitation to come inside, and there were Rosie and Mimzy in the middle of having some drinks and gossip.

Alastor’s arrival would have been met with a friendly greeting from Rosie if she hadn’t quickly realised that there was something odd about him. He, on the other hand, seemed nonchalant as he gave a quick wave to her before saying, “Rosie, darling, I don’t wish to be rude and cut your little chit-chat short, but if you would be so kind as to excuse us, I’d like to have a talk with Mimzy.”

Rosie did not answer immediately, quietly taking in the look on his face – how, despite smiling as always, the corner of his lips were taut as it was stretched in a grin that was looking very peculiar, and his eyes were as sharp as daggers and hard as stone with dark intent. Even more curious how focused he was on Mimzy, who seemed to have realised this as well but was casually looking away to light up a cigarette.

When Alastor’s gaze flicked to the _whisper sister_ with an expectant look, she heeded the request and made a move to leave the room, glancing once more at the both of them to see that they were now locked in a stare-down. Neither one said a thing when she closed the door behind her.

Rosie would have thought nothing of a thing, not liking to poke her nose where it wasn’t her business if not necessary, but from the air about Alastor, there was one thing that was clear.

Something was about to go down, and it wasn’t going to be good.

In a hurry, she rushed off to find Husker.

* * *

“I’m really grateful that you’re able to find some time to meet me,” Charlie said kindly with a small smile. “I hope you aren’t too tired from your trip.”

A dismissive wave of the hand and Sir Pentious gestured to himself with gusto. “No worries, my dear! I may be reaching a third of my life but I’m still feeling to be quite at my prime!”

The meeting with Sir Pentious was impromptu when he made the call that afternoon telling her that he’d arrived in New Orleans and invited her for dinner, which she accepted in a bid to make a good impression on him. She could only hope that the rushed job to redo her make-up was enough to cover the pain in her eyes from having a good cry after her unfortunate encounter with Alastor earlier on.

Her mind couldn’t stop replaying every single thing that had happened, from when he first showed up – internally groaning at the way she had shut the door twice on him due to her shock and disbelief – to when she locked her doors for the final time after shoving his monocle back to him. The unlucky circumstance had almost made her want to cancel on Sir Pentious just because she felt so disheartened after what had happened, though now she was internally glad for the distraction because she didn’t think she could bear staying in her bedroom alone with her thoughts just yet.

After placing their orders with the waiter – Charlie felt proud of herself for her proficient knowledge on delicious New Orleanian cuisine to recommend – they talked a bit about his journey, which he took in a comfortable convertible accompanied by an escort, kindly provided by his hosts, the Von Eldriches.

“Seviathan sends his regards,” Sir Pentious informed her. “He hopes that you are well.”

Charlie masked the internal grimace that came to the name with a forced smile. “I am, thank you. And I hope he is, as well.”

The change in the topic came with a passing band that was ambling nearby, playing their instruments into a merry ragtime tune as loud and as proud as they could to the streets. Many attentions were caught by the moving troupe, as did Charlie’s and Sir Pentious’, and people stopped and gathered around to admire and enjoy the music.

“My, I must say! This city truly is full of life!” Sir Pentious exclaimed excitedly. “It’s rare to find happenstances to occur in Britain, but that’s probably because it rains too much and shines too little to allow for such.”

Charlie laughed at the jibe and nodded. “Yes, indeed! New Orleans truly is beautiful. When I first stepped foot here, I would never have expected such vibrancy. Truly, the Heart of the South.”

Sir Pentious hummed, though there was a pondering tone to it. “Well, that may be. But it may seem that there are some things to this town that would make up its peculiarity.”

His thoughtfulness had Charlie tilting her head in curiosity. “Oh? And what do you mean by that, Sir Pentious?” she inquired.

“Why, I’ve heard about an insurgence of missing cases happening here.”

* * *

“Alastor,” Mimzy greeted airily, “What brings you to me, darling?”

Alastor’s smile widened just the tiniest bit. “Can’t I see a friend, dear Mimzy?” he replied coolly, voice as animated as ever.

But Mimzy did not buy it for a second. Streaming out smoke smoothly through puckered lips, she pointed out, “You never made an attempt to see here since I’ve been back until now. So, cut to the chase and tell me.”

Mimzy’s always been a straightforward gal, which Alastor could appreciate in the slightest, considering he needn’t beat around the bush to get right into it.

“I’ve had a little word with Charlie today.”

“Oh, exciting.” The sarcasm in her voice was not to be missed with the way she uttered it bored with a roll of her eyes. “And how is Lil’ Miss Sunshine?”

Her nonchalant tone ticked him off just a bit. “Well, not very good actually, thank you for asking!” Alastor replied with his wide smile, his tone giving away that he was nowhere close to gracious. “Seems that there’s been a misunderstanding concerning some things that she’s heard from you.”

Mimzy did not even make an attempt to deny it, giving herself away willingly. “Oh shoot, did she tell on me?” she asked with a face of mock worry. “Boo hoo, I must be in such big trouble now.”

Her pretence, however, did nothing to amuse Alastor even in the slightest. “I don’t see how exactly you can still take this as a joke, my dear.”

“What? It’s not as if I told her what _exactly_ you do with them,” she retorted defensively, taking another puff.

“Oh, no! That I know you won’t do! You’re smart enough to know that. But!” Alastor uttered suddenly, raising a finger as though to make a point as his voice raised in pitch, “What I thought you’d be smarter about, though, is **not** sticking your nose into my business!”

Anybody who knew Alastor well enough could tell past that permanent smile that, at this moment, he was absolutely boiling. Being a relatively calm individual, for him to get to that state made him one to never be trifled with, lest someone wanted to get potentially hurt in his fit of pique. Mimzy, however, could care less and seemed to want to grasp the nettle, ruffled by this confrontation, especially if it was about the little bitch.

“Are you really going to go into a tizzy just because your ‘girlfriend’ is mad at you?

The temperature in the room seemed to rise at the indirect mention of Charlie, and his balled fists were starting to turn white at his knuckles as a fire of indignation burned in his eyes.

“I’m getting into a ‘tizzy’ because thanks to you, that ‘girlfriend’ has just ended things with me. You’ve driven my game away; do you understand that? Just how the hell am I going to get her back when all those months of wheedling into her life goes down the drain just like that?”

Green eyes narrowed into slits of irritation, red lips thinning in displeasure at being scolded. Mimzy butted out her cigarette roughly against the ashtray, before waving a manicured hand to his figure exasperatedly.

“So, what’s the big deal? And what’s this whole charade of keeping her around, huh? You could take her like all the other dames, get her into someplace quiet and knife’ em down like you always do. It isn’t like she’s the first.”

Alastor did not appreciate the way she was chastising him, feeling antagonised at being questioned for his motives. But Mimzy did not take it back, because however ridiculous it was, there was no denying that she raised a valid point.

Even with the heat between them, Alastor only looked at her with a stare as cold as ice, seething with aggravation. Yet, he seemed aloof as always, no doubt going to brush it off like should be of no one’s concern but his own.

However, to Mimzy’s surprise, she noticed something unusual then.

She couldn’t tell at first, wondering if she was right to think that he was looking to be thoughtful, as if there was something about what she said that struck him; a look that gave away the notion that there was something he did not wish to reveal. Her irritation transition into a curiosity at that supposition, but all it took was a good long scrutinising at him to realise that there was something in his eyes that she never thought she would ever see him ever portray.

Hesitation.

And that’s when it hit her.

“I can’t believe it…”

This sudden change stoked Alastor’s confusion. “What?” he asked.

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

The mention of that word struck him like lightning and had him stunned, staring at Mimzy in astonishment as if her statement was absolutely ridiculous, not paying much attention to the way his own heart started to palpitate rapidly as if reacting to that sentence.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered in irritation, though his voice was tight as if it was protesting against his words.

Mimzy ignored that statement. In the shock that hit her like a brick to the face, she took a step back and placed a hand over her agape mouth, staring at Alastor all bewildered. She could feel her breathing turning shallow, and how she wished she wasn’t in such a tight dress right now because she felt that she might pass out. But as she was still trying to wrap her head around the thought of her realisation, she could feel the beginnings of a sort of maddening grief, both at the wretched girl, and at Alastor, the latter of whom the sight of him now seemed to be completely disgusting her.

Yet, her pride and vanity forced her to become stubborn, and venom was starting to coat her tongue and morphed her shock into a menacing sneer.

“I’ll have to say Alastor, I’ve always known you to be quite the madcap with nerves of steel. And here I was with that little bit of sensibility left to believe that act you pulled with kissing her was just some sort of trap. By golly, I didn’t think it’ll take something as pathetic as a little dolly like her and a song to make you weak in the knees.”

It wasn’t hard to tell that it struck a chord in Alastor, and bound to make his already-boiling fury start to become red-hot. Mimzy should have known then to stop, to not take her chances, but her mind wasn’t in the right space for logical reasoning, more focused on her own rage.

But she had ought to think twice to know well that Alastor wasn’t one to let himself be talked down in such a manner. Oh, no. He wouldn’t intend to falter to her words and let her get away with such insolent _chinning_ , taking it in with a composed disposition as he smirked haughtily.

Two could play at that game.

“And yet, how she’s managed to achieve so much in that one moment than you ever could from doing the same thing for years.”

Seeing Mimzy frown with her sneer deepening was a familiar sight, though not one appreciated much by Alastor.

“Jealousy truly is unflattering on you, Mimzy.”

“You’re pathetic,” Mimzy spat, and Alastor’s control truly was commendable despite how close to snapping he was at the audacity she had to still try to bite at him. Yet, he continued his veneer of impassiveness, putting in a little more spite than she would in her little act of _casting a kitten_.

“Oh, am I? As compared to you, who wears her heart on her sleeves for all to see? Who’s trifled enough by just anybody she feels inferior to? My, you truly are the most predictable little thing, aren’t you? Literally no surprise about you at all. No excitement. All for the same petty reasons. It’s absolutely plain vanilla to me.

It was at this point that he started advancing on her. With each step Alastor took forward, Mimzy took one backwards, and before long he was standing right in front of her, his intimidating height towering over her short chubby frame and making her start to feel small, especially when he continued his _razz_ with fervour.

“But Charlie. Why, she’s nothing like that. Not at all. In fact, I dare say that’s a blessing!”

“Bullshit!”

Alastor chortled loud and obnoxious. “I thought so too, honestly! I didn’t think much of her until I saw it for myself. I thought she would have been like ‘all the other dames’, but imagine my surprise when I see she’s got a mean streak that’s knocked me off my socks! Who would have thought that a ‘little dolly’ such as herself could do that much to impress me? Can you believe it?”

Those words were said with an intention to hurt her, and it did. However, she couldn’t be too sure if it was her own mind reeling to add insult to injury or if she actually saw it for herself, but did it look like his smile seemed genuine when he said that?

“Shut up!” Mimzy snarled with teeth bare. “Shut up, you piece of shit!”

Her curses fell on deaf ears, and Alastor only watched her getting riled up and madder than a sack full of rattlesnakes, but even looking at her, his eyes were cloudy and almost musing, unknowing to both Mimzy and his clear conscience that he was slowly starting to immerse with the thoughts of Charlie that started to fill his mind.

“What she does to me…”

“Stop.”

“You don’t know how the sight of her drives me wild with need.”

“You son of a bitch! Stop it!”

“Like there’s something about her that’s calling me to want her.”

**“I SAID; STOP IT!”**

“You don’t know the sort of ecstasy she gives me when she’s all warm and tight around my-”

The ending to Alastor’s sentence was not met, cut off short in a snap of sudden rage with a harsh tight slap across his face.

Mimzy’s green eyes were almost glowing with emerald fires as she glared daggers at Alastor, her breathing shallow as she seethed over his words, her nostrils flaring as she emitted hot air. Her still-raised hand was trembling, both from the surge of angry adrenaline that took over her and the pain that came at the hard contact between her palm and his soft cheek.

She realised too late that she probably shouldn’t have done that, her heart starting to hammer in panic and her eyes going wide with dismay when she suddenly had her back slammed against a wall by a hand wrapped tight against her throat.

* * *

The thought of Reginald Alfonse and those two boys had been so buried within Charlie’s psyche until it became nothing but a distant memory up until now. How the topic could induce such a spur of anxiety in Charlie, making her think back in dread to the close call that she had with Detective Emile Dalton.

Though considering that he had never shown up ever since that day, it could be taken as assurance that she had been cleared of any sort of suspicion to the case of Mr. Alfonse. And that was how it should be because she knew that she had absolutely nothing to do with any of the missing cases that occurred. Still, she couldn’t help but put up a brave front to hide that uncertainty.

“It is scary, yes. But I’m sure that the local police are working hard to get to the bottom of this.” Her tight-lipped smile did its best to hide away her nerves, her voice sounding as reassuring as it possibly could. “I’m sure such cases will be solved in no time, and the victims will be found safe and sound in the end.”

Sir Pentious did not see her nerves through her façade, but he waved a hand dismissively. “Ah, well. Let’s just hope the law here is quite reliable. Though, I hope you’ve taken it into consideration for the hotel. We wouldn’t want any future patrons to potentially add to the numbers.”

Ah, yes. That would be a cause of concern, considering it was clearly unknown if the cases would ever let up. But still, she maintained her positivity to claim, “I can assure you that once we’ve had the hotel up and running properly, we will definitely provide the best security to ensure that.”

There must be something about the way she said it that made him smile. “I do admire your confidence, Miss Magne,” he commended, raising his glass to her. “That aside; I do wish to propose a toast to our new partnership.”

More than relieved to have the topic set aside, Charlie more than happily picked up her own glass and cheered in returned, taking silent gulps to push down the nervous lump in her throat.

* * *

Mimzy’s head started to spin as she gasped for air, but the struggle intensified as Alastor’s fingers tightened around her throat, effectively cutting off her breathing. She struggled with all her might against her firm grip, but her heavy weight was nothing to the strength that Alastor had in that one arm alone, holding her up until she’s just on the tip of her toes.

With her in his hold, he forced her to look directly at him, to take in the sights of his eyes now dire and wild with his bloodthirsty instincts unleashed, his grin now nefarious with teeth bared threateningly, and the chortle of laughter that escaped him only made the façade all the more terrifying.

“My, my, Mimzy! That’s pretty ballsy of you!” he guffawed maddeningly. “I didn’t think you would actually have the guts!”

Mimzy could hear her own heart palpitating wildly, fuelling her panic that galvanised her to attempt escape. With whatever strength she could muster, she grabbed his wrist and tried to pull his hand off of her as small ragged breaths were escaping her throat, each one a failed attempt in trying to scream for help.

This only seemed to entertain Alastor, he shook his head pitifully at her with that same wicked grin.

“Now, as much as I would want nothing to hear your screams, it’s a bit sad that it seems all your lovely voice’s good for is singing songs and spewing bullshit!”

Without taking his eyes off her, his free hand reached out to the vanity nearby, pushing the objects around to blindly search for something useful. It came to touch on cold metal, and his fingers gripped it and quickly brandished the pair of scissors up to her face, delighted as he took in the sight of the fear intensifying in her, making her thrash and buck wildly but to no avail, as his hold was too strong and she couldn’t shake him off no matter how hard she tried.

“ **So, let’s say we get rid of that useless thing, hmm?!** ”

His _pump_ picked up its pace in a rush of adrenaline as he pressed the blade of the scissors against the sliver of fat below her jaw, and with a clear focus that he could find in the haze of his madness, he slowly drew it against her flesh, a rush of ecstasy hitting him as her blood started to trickle out down and falling in droplets on her large _bubs_.

The scream was building up in Mimzy’s throat as pain started flooding her senses, and panic sent her acting up in a desperate bid to escape his clutches. One hand continued to claw desperately at his skin and dig it hard enough to leave marks, while the other was trying to swat the scissors away, which only drove Alastor to press the blade harder.

All of this was useless. The lack of oxygen was dulling her senses, weakening her and yet heightening her anguish as he mercilessly took his time with slicing her open, because he didn’t think she deserved a quick death. On top of that, nothing could snap Alastor out of this induced bloodlust now, and he was sure as Hell not set to stop until he had made the kill.

Throughout their exchange, they were wholly unaware of the three who had been eavesdropping outside the door and had barged their way into the room to see him _getting gashouse_ on her.

“ **H-HEY!** ”

“ **ALASTOR, STOP IT!** ”

“ **MIMZY!** ”

A pair of thick arms immediately went around Alastor’s torso to hold him in a lock and forcefully pull him away, and the suddenness of the movement knocked the wind out of him and made him snap out of his hysterical state of mind. His grip slackened enough for Mimzy to be released, falling into a heap on the floor, gasping for air in the first few seconds before screaming out weakly for help, her cries sounding akin to that of a tortured animal holding on to its last shreds of life.

It took Alastor a few seconds to make sense of what was going on, realising only then that Husk was keeping him in his grip, while Niffty had rushed to Mimzy’s side and Rosie stood in front of him and held her slender arms out, acting as a barrier that kept the distance between them. Mimzy was clutching onto Niffty, crying her heart out and shivering in fear, wounded with a little less than a _harlem sunset_ but otherwise still alive and breathing.

When he finally got his head around the situation, he was aware of how tight Husk was holding him. Being touched incited an agitated growl, and Alastor roughly shook himself out of his arms, making the bartender backtrack in surprise, staying where he was by the death stare that Alastor gave him. Sure, he’s seen for himself how the man could be as he lost himself to the thrill of the kill a few times, but not anything like this. Here, spite and malice twisted his features, and the crooked smile on his lips only added to looking raving and demented.

Alastor breathed hard, and with each breath he took, he was beginning to regain his bearings, turning away from Husk to look at Rosie, then to Niffty, and then to Mimzy. The singer was still curled up like a little fetus, cowering in terror as her best friend held to her _pipes_ a piece of cloth that was slowly staining with blood. Nearby her, the scissors lay on the floor, its blade coated with a wet crimson.

They thought he seemed _balled up_ , as they were to find him actually attacking Mimzy and having the intent to _blow her down_. However, there was not a shred of pity in Alastor’s heart to give a damn to the blasted woman. If anything, he was only further frustrated at the sight that he did not finish her off because of the protesting figures around him.

“Well, Mimzy, you best count your lucky stars I’m feeling the slightest bit merciful to let you off!” he cried out exuberantly. “Not many unfortunate souls can say they’ve struck me and gotten away with it!”

“Alastor, that’s enough!” Rosie shrieked, silenced immediately by the vicious look he flashed to her.

Mimzy only whimpered timorously as she curled into herself even more, and despite how small she was, Niffty did her best to shield her, eyes looking pleadingly at Alastor.

“Mister Al… Don’t…” she begged in a small voice

Seeing that look on her face so terrified and so unlike her usual cheery nature actually stopped him in his tracks, and made him take a step back to look at all three of them. It was only then he realised the trepidation that was clear on their expressions. Admittedly, he was quite taken aback to see that for, what might be the first time, they were actually looking quite terrified of him. Never before had he ever seen them portray such a strong, unfavourable reception towards his actions, and it seemed so out-of-place that it almost made him question himself.

But taking one more look at Mimzy, seeing how she was cowering and crying and so broken down and bleeding to look nothing like the arrogant and vainglorious woman she always made herself out to be, still there was no pity. He was so ridden with disgust at the sight of her, and from there and then, he didn’t give a single fuck about how the others felt about him harming their dearest friend.

“Though, if you think as smart as you talk, I sincerely hope that this time, you’d _shut your head_ about it.”

The final warning came with a snarl that was only responded by silence from everyone else in the room, and he expected that to be enough for Mimzy to _pipe that_. Ignoring her tormented wails, Alastor simply brushed down the front of his jacket and gave a final minacious look to Rosie, Husk and Niffty, not saying a word to them before turning on his heel and exiting the room with a slam of the door.

* * *

Dinner went on without the topic being raised again, much to Charlie’s relief, and she had found the focus she needed to discuss plans for the hotels. She was actually thankful that she’s received the letters from earlier on, giving her a strong backing in promoting the concept to her future sponsor.

Their meeting had been pretty fruitful, and Sir Pentious definitely did seem impressed from the amount of people who had written in, though she couldn’t help but feel an inkling that he may have found it hard to believe at first. But with a little convincing on her side and some words to add to an appeal on his end of the deal, he seemed thoroughly convinced to continue. It may have been a pinch to her that he was definitely doing this to get some benefit for that future egg carton factory of his, but beggars can’t be choosers, and she supposed that he should be sufficient enough while she could find other sponsors who would be more focused on the cause.

It wasn’t long after dinner that they’ve finally reached the conclusion to their discussion. “Well, my dear, I do say it’s about time we both start to retire for the night, don’t you think?” Sir Pentious remarked as he looked at a pocket watch he had on him. “Dinner was wonderful but I ought to get some rest.”

“Oh, of course! I shouldn’t hold you back any longer,” Charlie replied kindly. “I will see you the next time, then. How’s this Tuesday at 2 o’clock sound?”

“Sounds splendid. Gives me a whole day before that to take a tour around this city for myself.” It was then followed by an amusing joke of, “I do hope I don’t run into any kidnappers, though!

Charlie laughed, though it was weak and ridden with nerves at the thought, but she did much to not let it slip as she pulled out her trusty pocket diary from her purse to jot down the meeting date. But when she opened the book, it fell open to a page, and for a moment, Charlie’s heart sank as the nerves reignited for an entirely different reason.

In between those pages was the pressed daisy.

For a moment, she stopped to simply gaze at the dried and flat flower, ridden in dismay that just like that, she had to be so inaptly reminded of her unfortunate encounter with Alastor earlier on. Even more in dismay was the fact that now that the distraction was over, she had to return to her lonesome and thus to her thoughts, with no doubt that her mind was going to start flooding with thoughts of the man at the very moment it can.

But with a resolute sigh, she picked up the daisy, allowing herself just a bit to feel it’s dried and fragile petals in her fingertips, before letting it drop to the floor, forcing it out of mind as hard as she could.

* * *

Alastor was still blind with rage as he stormed through the _Blind Pig_ and made his way to the stairs, fighting the urge to get back in that room and finish off what he started. But for the sake of his friends, and out of respect to Niffty, he went against his instincts and kept on walking, his control forcing him to ignore the devil on his shoulders that was trying to tempt him otherwise.

Though, by no means he was going to let this pent-up energy go to waste. To Hell with the thought he had this afternoon of being more careful like Husk had told him to. He’d be more than happy to go _bing_ and paint this whole city red if it meant getting himself to calm down.

So beside himself was he to be wholly unaware of a pair of eyes watching him in disbelief.

_Oh? Isn’t that…_

“Hey, Val.”

Valentino’s attentions were pulled away from the retreating radio host to his star boy, who had returned to their table empty-handed.

“The bartender isn’t there,” Angel Dust replied, his face straight and voice monotonous, though his nerves were evident in the way he crossed his arms. “I tried calling for somebody but nobody showed, so we don’t have the drinks yet.”

Any other day and Val would have made a snide remark at this incompetence, even straight-up smacked him if he was in a bad mood – those were the worst days, when Angel would wish he hadn’t been forced to accompany Valentino and stay by his side.

But luckily for him, his pimp seemed to be in a good mood, giving him a smile as he reassured, “Just go back to the bar and wait for a little while more, Angel Cakes. Somebody’s ought to show up soon.”

Angel was internally relieved, both from not having received any form of verbal and physical harm and at being given a chance to be away from Val for a little while more. But he was careful to not let the relief show just yet. He wasn’t going to celebrate that small win too early, so he kept his poker face on as he nodded and headed back to the bar.

Val, on the other hand, did not pay much mind to Angel, instead returning his gaze to find that Alastor Carlon had just exited the door, and immediately he was filled with curiosity that wondered what was the famed local radio host doing at a property of the Big Apple.

He’s sure that the boss will be quite intrigued to hear about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlie's really got the restraint that Alastor's just about losing, huh? And Mimzy trying her luck didn't end up working so well on her end! I know so many were expecting Al to chill off Mimzy right there and then, but looks like the Rosie, Husk and Niffty are there to set him straight on the boundaries he was about to break. Guess even his erratic behaviour gets a bit too much for them! And looky there! Looks like Val about to relay some interesting news to Lucifer! I wonder where that's going to lead!
> 
> But most importantly; the big question was popped! And lo and behold, as much as he brushed it off, he didn't actually deny it?! What!
> 
> Well, this is really about to take a sharp turn - for better or for worse, we can't tell! Looks like we'll have to wait and see if Charlie's going to get wind of this!
> 
> This end message is going to be a bit sappy because I really want to thank you all for you love and support for this story. Thanks to you guys, Smiling Man is actually now the top hit Charlastor fanfiction! You don't know how knocked out of my socks I am at this! I am just so speechless, and don't know what to say except thank you all and I love and appreciate you with all my heart! You don't know how I want to just curl into a corner and just be hit with the feels that we've made it this far!
> 
> And with that being said, I want to give cheers to all of you! And let's not forget the brilliant and lovely artists who's blessed us with more SM fanart; Eidina (@eidinazavr), Angie (@i_amellow), Frumpy (@sucrose_mummy) and Molly (@galacticspud)!
> 
> I'm about ready to get this show on the road as things take a Chinese angle! Wonder how Alastor's coping with all of this, and what of Charlie?
> 
> Until next chapter!
> 
> 1920s slang:  
> Heebie-jeebies – The jitters  
> Hair of the dog - An alcoholic drink taken to cure a hangover  
> Joint – Establishment  
> Whisper Sister - Female proprietor of a speakeasy  
> Chinning – Talking  
> Casting a kitten – Throwing a fit  
> Razz - To make fun of or take the piss out of, heckle  
> Pump - Heart  
> Bubs – Breasts  
> Getting gashouse – Getting rough  
> Balled Up – Confused  
> Harlem sunset – Some sort fatal injury caused by knife  
> Pipes - Throat  
> Blow her down – Kill her  
> Shut your head – Keep your mouth shut  
> Pipe that – Get that, listen to that  
> Blind Pig - Speakeasy  
> Bing – Go crazy


	36. (Un)Tied Loose Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same

“…Vaggie?...”

In the midst of folding the laundry, Vaggie’s absent-mindedness was suddenly broken by the soft-knocking the door. Her breathing hitched in response to the sound of Charlie’s voice that was gentle but afraid. 

She stilled, and the sheets that she was in the middle of folding started to slip from her hands. Remaining silent, she did not say a word in reply and only took quiet breaths, listening intently to the quietude that befell on the other side of the door. Knowing Charlie, she was probably still there lingering, and sure enough, after a passing few seconds, the soft knocking came again.

“Are you busy?...” Her voice was even softer now, but the concernment was clearer in the way it wavered slightly. “…Can I come in?...”

Uneasiness was starting to set in, and Vaggie could almost hear the hard beating of her heart against her chest start to echo throughout her room, at the same time feeling the knot that seemed to be sitting in her gut for a long time starting to tense up for the umpteenth time. 

“…I really want to talk to you… Please…”

The bit of anger that was still embedded in her was saying to ignore Charlie as she had done thus far, causing her to experience the dread of what more could be said to hurt her as much – or even worse – than the day she had returned to New Orleans. Bitterness bit her at the recollection, the knot in her gut tightening once more and aggravated her uneasiness.

“…Vaggie…”

At Charlie’s calling of her name, it suddenly felt like all those burdening weeks of tension finally came crashing down on her, breaking her down at the restraint that she had put up within her for this long. Because before she could consider changing her mind, Vaggie had already made a move away from her bed to the door, and with as much carefulness as she could muster to her impatient hands, finally unlocked it to look Charlie in the eye after so long.

They talked for the longest time since their disastrous reunion. It began with them standing and facing each other at a respectable distance, with Charlie carefully going over her words and voicing it in the calmest and safest manner possible. But when the minutes turned into a little more than an hour, they were now sitting cross-legged next to each other on Vaggie’s bed, the closest they’ve been as Charlie poured out everything that has been going on to her relatively silent friend. A lot of things had happened to Charlie; things Vaggie wasn’t aware because of her self-isolation from her. There were mentions of names that she wasn’t familiar with – Mimzy? – and a breakdown of everything that had happened ever since the night at Baton Rouge.

She did her best to remain calm and listen, but admittedly, it still did sting to hear her talk about that accursed man because she was still bitter about having been lied to in such a way. That spiteful voice in her head that seemed to be the manifestation of the anger that lingered kept whispering for her to keep at being stubborn and ignore her pleas, and to not give chances after what had been done.

“I’m just… so sorry, Vaggie…” Charlie cried, her head lowered in shame as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “I can’t take back what I did, and it’s all just a stupid mistake, and I’m so sorry…”

That voice inside her didn’t win in the end, and there was no denying that the softness in Vaggie’s heart wanted otherwise to be out of the cheerlessness that she had been suffering, overpowering her with the want of nothing more than to hear her out and let her in once more, especially now seeing that Charlie was once more crying and apologising to her in heart-breaking sincerity.

A hand gently touched her shoulder, making her look up to her friend, who was eyeing her thoughtfully.

“Okay…”

She never said she had forgiven her, but she supposed that at this moment, it would be easier for Charlie to take what she could get, but it was definitely enough, for now, to see Vaggie giving her that soft smile once more.

* * *

Angel knew he probably shouldn’t have _tipped_ so much the previous night.

But what more could he do when Valentino insisted on that binge except to obey? Besides, it had been drinks on him at that _ritzy juice joint_ , and Angel wasn’t one to turn down a free offer. He couldn’t remember much of last night except going _on a toot_ with his pimp. Oh! He did flirt with the ruggedly handsome bartender who had seemed to be in a bad mood and had told him right off to ‘Go fuck yourself’. It’s a shame he didn’t manage to get into the _bimbo’s_ pants, but at least he got a laugh out of his flustered reaction when he had replied with a smart ‘Only if you watch me’.

That aside, now the pounding headache and the nausea were his own consequences to bear, and he ought to catch a few more winks so he wouldn’t look so green about the gills when he had to be out for the night. Unfortunately, his stomach was protesting for some food, having been cleared of content from all the vomiting he had done after the bender, so there was no way he could get back to sleep peacefully until he had that settled.

With a groan, Angel got out of his room and trudged down to the lobby with heavy laziness, hoping that Charlie was around to help him out with this stupid hangover. She might definitely nag about not drinking responsible or whatever other nonsense, but the least she could do with that was to hopefully have some food for him. All that the kitchen had were apples, and he swore if he had to snack on another one piece of fruit, he was going to have a serious talk with her about getting actual food ready for all the ‘wayward souls’ she was soon going to have here.

He was going down the stairs when he heard the front doors opening, and he was all prepared to ask the important question regarding food, but imagine his surprise when he saw who it was that came in.

“Oh! Hey there.”

“Hi,” Vaggie replied as closed the doors. 

It had been quite a long time since Angel had seen her around the hotel, and he was even beginning to stop wondering if she would ever show, rightfully assuming that she was still mad and sore about what happened that day. But contrary to belief, her greeting was simple, not holding any malice or resentment that he had been anticipating, instead sounding blank and nonchalant. It was unexpected, though Angel couldn’t help but feel relieved that he wouldn’t have to deal with her temperament with his own predicament.

As she hung up her hat and light coat, Vaggie became distracted by the new décor of the hotel, gazing around and taking in how done-up the place was compared to when she had last seen it. Meanwhile, Angel stood at the foot of the stairs awkwardly, feeling quite uneasy considering how their last interaction had them both screaming at each other in native tongues, so he rightfully did not know what to say and kept to be careful to maintain his distance.

It was only when her eyes roamed to him that she then realised his nervous disposition and the paleness of his face. “Are you alright?” she asked with a quirked brow. “You look sick.”

Her amiable question had Angel merely shrugging. “I was _lit up like The Commonwealth_ the whole of last night and am now regretting my decisions.”

His chuckle at the end only made Vaggie roll her eyes and shake her head. “I thought so. Here, maybe this would help.”

Angel realised then that Vaggie had a basket with her, no doubt holding some much-needed breakfast; or lunch since he wasn’t really sure what time it was. Heading right to the kitchen, he felt inclined to at least help set the dining table while she prepared the food – some nice po’boys and mason jars of fruit cocktails, Cream of Wheat and milk. It certainly beat apples, that’s for sure!

It wasn’t long before Angel was almost wolfing down the food, feeling his stomach slowly become at ease and lose the queasiness. Beside him, Vaggie ate quietly, and the companionable silence between them was void of any lingering tension. She seemed to be in a better mood than he would have thought. Sure, she was as dull as always, but that was more welcoming than having her sullen like before. As he eyed her quietly while munching away to his heart’s content, he could tell that it seemed that she and the doll had finally settled their differences somewhat to get her like this.

Speaking of which.

“Where’s Charlie?”

“She headed to the market. Something about getting flowers to decorate the place for a sponsor visit tomorrow.”

Vaggie had been informed about Sir Pentious this morning and had honestly been very happy to hear that the hotel finally got its first sponsor. And upon seeing the new look of the place just a moment ago was enough to knock her socks on how much things had been progressed since she’s been gone. She did feel quite heavy-hearted at not having been there to witness these advancements for herself, but to see Charlie ecstatic about it was at least rewarding enough.

“Oh, yeah. Heard about that one.”

A hum from Vaggie, and then things got quiet once more as they continued to eat. But while it wasn’t a difficult silence, Angel was starting to feel just a little bit awkward. He didn’t do well with not talking for long, and thus felt like he should probably _beat his gums_ , but nothing else came to mind except to ask about the elephant in the room.

“So… You and Charlie sorted things out?”

Judging from the nonchalant reaction, he hadn’t asked anything sensitive, and if it was, Vaggie’s expression did not change and remained blank as she simply dug out another spoonful of Cream of Wheat. “Kind of, yeah,” she answered. “We talked it out, and it’s settled for now.”

A nod of acknowledgement and Angel was relieved to hear that there’s been a step in the right direction to clear the air. “Well, I’m glad for that. You were really mad that time, it was pretty intense.”

“You think?” There was a now slight sarcastic bite to Vaggie’s tone as she frowned mildly, looking at Angel with an unamused side-eye.

Well, now it looked like he finally managed to break the doll out of her composure, much to his regret. Angel probably should mentally slap his _sloppy_ self for not sitting on his words for a bit before saying it out straight and _hairy_ like that, but it would probably be pretty tactless to retract what he said. Since he’s started it, he wasn’t one to leave a point hanging, and so he continued with as much nonchalance as he fiddled with what’s left of his po’boy.

“I get that you’re angry, but that was just something else.”

“I don’t see how me being lied to isn’t something to be absolutely livid about. Don’t think I’m completely over it, mind you. Just because Charlie and I are talking again, doesn’t mean I would instantly forgive and forget.”

Vaggie removed her spoon from her porridge, pointing it right at him with a deep frown now fixed on her face. “The same goes for you, since you were in on it as well.”

Angel would agree that Vaggie did have all the right to be upset, and he would let her be upset for however much she wished. But what he didn’t agree with was what else Vaggie had been upset about. He probably should have just stayed in bed and slept off his hungover instead of having to deal with this, but since the subject’s already been broached, might as well just go with it. Besides, he felt the need to put his two cents on it for Charlie’s sake.

“Jesus, toots. I know the lying is all wrong, but come on. The girl wanted to go on a date, and she would have been honest with you if you weren’t so controlling.”

He probably shouldn’t have said that. Really, just damn his loose tongue in his _half-sloshed_ state.

“‘Controlling’?” Vaggie exclaimed fumingly, and Angel only raised a single brow in response, irritating her. “Say whatever you want, but this is Alastor Carlon we’re talking about!”

Hell-bent as ever Vaggie seemed to be in her claim that was _off the deep end_ as always, and Angel wasn’t really in the mood to argue about that _hooey_ all over again, only allowing a sigh of resignation in response.

“Charlie’s a big girl who knows how to handle herself. And you gotta cut her some slack, especially since she and him-”

“Can we **not** talk about **that**?”

There was a shrillness that came with the objection to that particular topic, adding depth to the anger that seemed almost out of place, and inciting Angel’s confusion at the off-ness of it.

“Heh. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that you…”

It was in the midst of that sentence that Vaggie sighed heavily instead of snapping as she usually would, but with that sigh came a thoughtful gaze down at her Cream of Wheat, the melancholia that painted her face showed that she was pondering over something serious. Her lips started to purse together as her fingers gripped her spoon just a little bit tighter. The unusual reaction had Angel stopping his tongue, watching her dubiously at the peculiarity of it.

In the silence that stretched while his eyes remained on her, Vaggie finally glanced at him, and gone were the fires that were lit at the mention of the man she loathed, now showing eyes that were cloudy with a downhearted spirit that was conflicted with hesitation.

From that look alone, Angel knew.

“Oh… Shit.”

* * *

It felt like a burden off her shoulders when Vaggie volunteered to head on to the hotel first while Charlie headed to town to settle some errands. The fact that she didn’t question or insisted to loom gave her the indication that her best friend was at least doing her part to allow her some trust, something that Charlie more than appreciated.

She didn’t take too long at the florist to just place some orders to be delivered to the hotel on Tuesday morning. A few displays bouquets would be more than enough to brighten the hotel up for Sir Pentious’ visit, and will especially compliment how spiffy the place was looking right now. She hoped Vaggie would be delighted with the new look, excited to hear her thoughts about it when she’d be at the hotel later to finish up some paperwork and write out the responses to the new interested soon-to-be patrons.

The thought of so many improvements happening so fast was enough to knock Charlie off her socks and make her giddy with glee. She ought to celebrate with her friends, and what better way to do so than to indulge in some nice treats? Luckily for her, there was still some time to kill and Café Du Monde was just around the corner, enticing her with the promise of lovely beignets.

It wasn’t busy at this time, so it shouldn’t take her long to get a bag full of the sweet pastries before grabbing a cab to the hotel, and as she approached the entrance, she swore she could almost detect that delectable aroma of beignets wafting about her nose. But it was a good thing she wasn’t too distracted to be careful of the door to the café that swung right open before she could reach for it, just barely able to move to make way for a tiny redhead that she recognised all too well.

_…Oh, for goodness sake… Seriously?..._

Right there, she was starting to feel the slightest bit tetchy at having come across one of Alastor’s friends again. Could she really not catch a break from that man? Each time she thought she had managed to get her mind to be void of him, it seemed that fate wished to be cruel to her and throw every chance of a reminder in her path whenever it could.

Still, it wouldn’t do well on her part to not maintain her civility, and she was sure that Niffty wouldn’t be as abhorrent as Mimzy had been. So as much as she put her guard up in case things go awry, she gave a gentle smile to the girl.

“Hello, Niffty,” she greeted with polite conduct.

However, it seemed that Charlie made the right choice to not be so overtly friendly, but it was definitely not proven in the way she would have expected when all Niffty replied after eyeing her in shock was a curt, “Go to Hell.”

For a few seconds, Charlie did not know how to react, clearly _knocked for six_ and just staring at Niffty in stupefaction. While the blonde was staring down at her with widened eyes, Niffty fought that sight back with a look of obvious disgust, complete with hands on her hips and a deep-knitted frown.

She should have known better to simply trust her gut instinct right from the start that engaging in conversation with a friend of Alastor’s would do her no good, but with the rotten look on Niffty’s _button_ chipping at her nerves, she would have liked to be the bigger person – no pun intended – and not pay mind to the remark, but she couldn’t let herself be treated in such a manner again.

“Excuse me?” Charlie made the fact that she was offended very clear in her tone.

Niffty was quick to snap in retort, “Oh, drop it with the nice act. It’ll take more than that after what you did to Mimzy!”

No doubt that either Mimzy or Alastor had told Niffty something regarding the encounter, which could be the only plausible explanation for her gratuitous behaviour. But the audacity that she was being blamed for it! Whatever _hooey_ that the girl wanted to take heed from that either of those two, she was definitely not going to stand by it and let her jump down her throat like that.

“I didn’t do anything to Mimzy,” Charlie argued back defensively. “She’s the one that decided to get up in my face and stick her nose where it wasn’t her business.”

It seemed that Niffty wasn’t caring much for her explanation. “Whatever!” she flared. “Thanks to you, she ran off!”

There was suddenly an abrupt pause, to which the anger in Charlie began to dwindle slightly, overtaken by confusion.

“What?”

“She ran away from New Orleans!” Niffty repeated herself with a growing temper. “Because she and Mister Al got into a big fight when he went up against her about it, and lemme tell ya, I’ve never seen them get into a tiff that bad until you came along!”

Whatever had been waiting on Charlie’s tongue to be shot out in response quickly disappeared when Niffty blurted all that out, and needless to say, she was stunned into astonishment, _bug-eyed_ and all.

Alastor actually fought with Mimzy about her? Well, that was something to hear. While she had no idea on what basis, Charlie had to admit that she wouldn’t have expected to hear such a thing about him reacting strongly when he found out about it from her, especially with how cold he had been during that exchange.

But as puzzling as it sounded, she couldn’t say that she thought the gesture to be any flattering to her, considering that she was being put to blame for nothing.

“I had nothing to do with any of that,” she answered indignantly. “And I’ll tell you what I told her; Alastor and I are done, and I’ve made sure of it. I don’t want to be involved in any way with him anymore.”

Stubborn in her tirade, Niffty didn’t seem entirely convinced. “Listen doll, you might think it’s over, but I’m not sure what to tell you now that Mister Al’s seems to be about to lose it, so I hope you’re happy!”

‘Ran away?'

‘Lose it’?

Just what exactly was this conversation?

“What the hell are you doing?”

Husk suddenly made an appearance as he exited from the cafe and promptly came to stand in between, taller than both despite his slouch, and putting some space to ensure a safe distance to keep them from potentially clawing each other. His question had been directed to Niffty, but he was already giving Charlie a wary eye. She didn’t greet him, only looking at both of them with tense confusion, and neither did he.

Husk was now tiredly looking at Niffty with disapproval. “What’d we say about keeping your mouth shut?” he scolded her, unaware of how his words piqued Charlie’s curiosity, and making her all the more confused and topped off with suspicion.

Niffty, on the other hand, only pouted and crossed her arms like a flippant child, and kept eyeing Charlie with disgust. “Husk, let’s go,” she all but demanded. “Looking at her is gonna make me stark raving mad.”

Without another word to the blonde, the short girl turned on her heels and huffed down the pavement, leaving Charlie looking perplexed at her back while Husk breathed a heavy stressed sigh, exasperated at having been left to deal with the situation.

He was still somewhat under the weather from another hangover, and it didn’t help that this morning hadn’t started well when Niffty had dragged him out to find Mimzy, who had bolted from the speakeasy after what had happened and _lammed off_ onto the first train out of New Orleans before anyone could stop her. He’s had enough to deal with since last night, and he thought that bringing a distressed Niffty out to have a good breakfast would be enough to quell his nerves and his goddamned hangover. So, it goes without being said that he wasn’t really keen on going on with what Niffty had started in her unnecessary outpouring, especially now that he’s having to face the very catalyst of this whole fiasco.

“Err, sorry about that,” he apologised with an overstrung look to her. “She gets really overreactive at times.”

His apology came out sounding rushed and awkward, said more to ease the tension than being actually genuinely sorry for what had happened. Thus, it ended up falling flat at the way Charlie only reacted with a glance with furrowed brows, and seeing that made everything become fiddly too quickly and too much for his liking, prompting his want to leave.

“Erm… I’ll be going now.”

“Hold it!”

Husk barely even took a step away when Charlie’s demand had him stopping in his motions, forced into attention once more to the befuddled gal who was still very much in a dither from Niffty’s outburst.

“What’s going on?” she asked straightforwardly and void of any sort of friendliness, especially when she continued with, “What did Alastor do to Mimzy?”

The grimace on Husk’s face gave away that whatever it was hadn’t been a pretty affair. Charlie could tell that he seemed to try be trying to hide it as he looked down, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he remained silent and clearly pondering of what to tell her. But she was too riled up to care about whether this was uncomfortable for him, and she’d stand here all the way if it meant getting an answer, resolute in wanting to hear it.

Her stance did prompt an answer, which came in a gruff sigh. “It really isn’t my business to tell, and neither is it yours to know.

It came out sounding more out of uncertainty than straight-up rudeness, but still it wasn’t an answer that she would like to accept. “Well, considering that Niffty’s just flying off the handle at me for God knows what reason, it’ll be nice to at least get some context,” she snapped, and her assertive request came with the crossing of her arms and the squaring of her shoulders.

Charlie eyed him hard expectantly, lips tilted down as she was bold with making her displeasure known, and something about that look made Husk honestly surprised to witness this sort of behaviour that he wouldn’t have expected from her relatively sweet demeanour.

 _Hell hath no fury for a woman scorned, indeed…_ he thought to himself in a moment of bamboozlement, and if the mood had been the slightest bit lighter, he would have liked to laugh on the inside at the thought that this was the particular dame that’s got Alastor all discombobulated as he was, and how it was clear that he was in a real _doozy_ for walking out on her the way he did.

But the solemnity of the situation brought the remembrance of the man and the disastrous events of last night did enough to remind him of Alastor’s intentions with her, as well as its possible consequences.

“Listen, I don’t want to do the dirty on anyone, but the least I can say is that you best steer clear of Alastor.”

Gone was the hesitance and in its place was a sudden serious-mindedness which amplified the weight of Husk’s words that were grave and bearing some sort of warning, and the change somehow hit Charlie the wrong way, not putting her mind to ease at the sense of direness that it brought.

Still, she questioned, “Why?”

“The man’s in a mood, and he isn’t really such a nice guy when he’s all worked up like that,” Husk explained straightforwardly. “That’s all I’ll tell ya.”

“Well, that doesn’t help things at all!” Charlie exclaimed exasperatedly.

Silent, Husk only gazed at her thoughtfully, taken aback by her tetchiness yet at the same time amazed by how she remained stubborn. But as much as he wouldn’t want to get involved, he knew it wouldn’t do her good to get any more involved than she already was. The girl was overall an inconvenience to their livelihoods, after all, and unlike Alastor, he wasn’t willing to take the risk of letting this drag out longer than it should.

“Just take it from me that it’ll do you good to just stay away,” he told her unsmilingly as he finally turned his body away from her. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll get _ankling_.”

Husk was nice enough to at least give a slow wave before heading to meet Niffty, who had been waiting at the end of the pavement and watching intently with her frown and crossed arms. Some words were exchanged for a bit, and it was soon enough that they were making their way somewhere, but not without another look in Charlie’s direction – Niffty shooting one more glare and Husk side-eyeing solemnly.

To herself once more, Charlie remained still, too distracted by the thoughts that were stirred up from this conversation that she did not ask for. She shouldn’t have bothered, to be very honest, and she should just simply take a deep breath to try to force the thoughts out as she had always been doing, and just get on with her day without a single care.

But something in her did not sit right to think that the questions of Alastor were just starting to pile up all over again.

* * *

The two pit bull terriers ambled around his feet, once in a while pawing up his leg and giving such adorable faces with their tongues hanging out and tails wagging. Lucifer offered one of them a scratch on the head and the mutt took that in gratitude with a bit of happy panting, invoking a genuine smile from the usually-menacing figure.

“You really sure you don’t want to keep ‘em, boss?” Vox asked with a gesture of his cigarette. “I mean, they lookin’ to really like you.”

Vox had been sticking around Baton Rouge for the past few weeks since the night of the party at the Magne manor, taking a short vacation to enjoy the simplicities of The South before he got back to the grind of things back in San Francisco. His visit to the manor tonight was to be his last before he departed, and it concerned the pups in question.

“It’s a shame, but I can’t,” Lucifer replied regretfully. “The missus had been having terrible sneezing fits and rashes ever since they’ve shown up. Wouldn’t want her to possibly blow up like a blimp because of allergies.”

The dogs whimpered pitifully, saddened at the thought of being sent away. “Ah, well. A pity,” Vox remarked as he listened to their soft whines. “They’re really cute ones. Wouldn’t mind taking them for myself, even if they were supposed to be your belated birthday gifts.”

Lucifer didn’t seem to mind at all. “By all means,” he offered graciously. “I’m sure they’ll find a good master in you.”

Vox nodded in acknowledgement, the tilt of his lips showing that he was thrilled to call the two beautiful creatures his own now. But as the dogs were still playing around Lucifer’s feet, the moment was cut short when a knock on the door sounded.

At the permission given by Lucifer, a butler promptly walked in, holding a small piece of parchment that he presented when he reached his side. “Telegram, sir,” he informed as he held it out with a bow.

“Thank you,” Lucifer said, taking the telegram before waving the butler off in dismissal, to which he left as silently as he came in. Once he was out, the room was filled with the sound of the puppies once more, and Vox began to coo them to him, which they obeyed without hesitation.

Meanwhile, Lucifer’s eyes scanned through the printed text on the parchment, and soon, the small smile that had been on his lips suddenly grew with raised brows of curiosity. This change was not missed by Vox, who began to get inquisitive.

“What’s the news?” he asked.

“From Valentino,” Lucifer replied, “with some very interesting information.”

Interesting information indeed! And it was exactly the sort that Lucifer had been hoping for. In fact, he was almost starting to wonder about what’s been going on with the smiling man lately, so to get information that Alastor Carlon’s been stirring up some trouble at Rosie’s truly did reignite his interest once more.

Unfortunately, it was disappointing when he realised that he might not be able to have the time to head down to New Orleans soon for a visit, considering he was bound to head upstate with Lilith to attend a function of one of the many societies that his wife was involved in. Really too bad as he would surely like to pay Mr. Carlon a visit, but he couldn’t possibly back out on his promise to her.

So, he supposed that someone should go in his stead in the meanwhile.

“Hey, Vox.”

“Yeah, boss?”

“How would you fancy a little trip to New Orleans?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With Alastor out of the picture, it finally paved the way for Charlie and Vaggie to work on mending back their friendship, but looks like things are a little more complicated with a certain revelation about Vaggie, Niffty having a bone to pick and Husk just wanted to get this shit over and done with. I wonder how Charlie's going to keep her head in check now with all these curiosities about Alastor, just as the Big Apple is right now? And speaking of which; where is Alastor!?
> 
> Times have been tough now with all the recent drama that's been going on in the fandom, but I just really want to implore you guys to not succumb to the hate. It isn't much, but I hope this update would be my part in trying to offer a little something in these trying times. I also just want all of you to know that I respect every single one of you, regardless of differences in preferences or whatever else, and would not wish to continue or invoke any sort of conflict. It's been pretty draining, but let us all just give our best to support and love our ships - ALL SHIPS MATTER - and be at peace with each other. 
> 
> With that, I will like to show my appreciation as always to the gorgeous artists who's blessed Smiling Man with their beautiful works, and you guys are part of the reason I'm still happy with what I do. And that's not forgetting you, my darling readers!
> 
> Deya (@DeyaMela)  
> Gabs (@grapeyfruits)  
> Angie (@i_amellow)  
> ZD101 (@ZD10110)  
> LateNightLurker (@LateLurker)  
> BethyGee (@MoonStar3133)  
> Hunter B (@hntrgurl13)  
> Emily (@SmileEmilyFleur)  
> Eidina (@eidinazavr)  
> Jasreen (@love_ughh)  
> Rachell (@AnimatesN)  
> Radio.apple (@Radio_apple1)  
> Loonette (@Loonette3)  
> Week (@Moonchi46059296)
> 
> So! How else can this get messy, huh? Until next time, darlings!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Tipping – Drinking  
> On a toot – Drinking spree  
> Ritzy – Swanky  
> Juice Joint - Speakeasy  
> Bimbo – Tough guy  
> Lit up like The Commonwealth – Drunk  
> Beat his gums – Talk idly  
> Sloppy – Intoxicated  
> Hairy – Crude  
> Half-sloshed – Intoxicated  
> Off the deep end – Crazy  
> Hooey - Nonsense  
> Button – Face  
> Bug-eyed – Wide eyes in astonishment  
> Ankling – Going


	37. Error of Judgement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: MILD DEPICTION OF MURDER

He ran clumsily through the thicket of trees that lined the swamp, trying as best as he could to navigate in the darkness with whatever little moonlight shone to light his way. Unfortunately, his vision was starting to be a fuzzy black at the sides, the after-effect of the strong hit that he took to the head just moments before bolting off.

He didn’t know what hit ‘em. One moment, he and his travelling companions had been sitting around the makeshift fire, listening to the crackle of the flames with the symphony of the bayous as they drank _foot juice_ from rusty flasks. But in a flash of a few unsuspecting seconds brought a loud and sickening wet sound as a knife got jammed into another’s back, invoking a loud and shrill cry of terror that rang through the dark horizon.

In the darkness of night and the dimness of their small fire, he hadn’t been able to get a good look at the attacker before he had taken off, though he swore he could almost see the glint of a crazed grin in the pale moonlight.

He was running fast, or at least he hoped he was. He couldn’t be too sure in this inebriated state, but there was no space in his mind for thinking about anything else other than getting the fuck away from there as far as possible. His heart clenched in fear at the thought at what had happened to those poor saps, but he hadn’t stuck around long enough to witness it. Each step into the dense marshes of the swamps was hopefully a step away from the perpetrator, a desperate escape from the maniac that had _blown down_ upon them.

Lady Luck was not on his side in giving him a false assumption that he had managed to get away, for it had him failing to anticipate the figure that leapt out from right in front of him and force a swift jab to his shoulder.

His back was already on the hard and wet muddy ground as he screamed in pain while clutching his impaled shoulder, to debilitated to pay attention to the tall and dark figure advancing onto him, looming over him like a phantom in the night. It was only when the moonlight that shone through the canopy of trees was blocked by the silhouette of his attacker that he froze, gazing in horror at the wide frenzied eyes that were glaring down at him with a sickening grin.

He wasn’t able to get another desperate cry out when the smiling man suddenly lunged down at him.

* * *

Going to the radio station had been for the sole reason to make arrangements with the receptionist regarding the forwarding of mail to the hotel’s address. Once that had been settled, she was supposed to head to the hotel to finish up some administrative work.

So, why was it that she was still waiting in front of the place for Alastor?

 _What are you doing?_ The question repeated itself in Charlie’s mind in her internal argument, telling herself that she _should not have taken any wooden nickels_ and not have told Vaggie about this visit to the station that she had planned. How could she think to do such a thing when she had just only gotten to doing their friendship right just yesterday?

But the resistance clashed amidst thoughts that had lingered from the confrontation with Niffty and Husk the day before. It had been unsettling her so much that it pushed her to seek some form of explanation from Alastor himself, but for what? Why was it that it bothered her so much to want to seek him out? Because she was being blamed for something she had no involvement in? Or because to hear that Alastor picking a fight over her was just so unusual and she needed to know the explanation to this absurd behaviour?

The reasons didn’t seem good enough to consider in the first place, yet just as she decided to head back to the hotel, she finally caught a glimpse of the tall man just exiting the building and strolling down a certain direction.

“Alastor!”

At the call of his name, he promptly stopped in his tracks, and only when Charlie neared him did she immediately notice the way his shoulders seemed to have tensed up, and how he stood as taut as a bowstring. He did not turn around immediately when he stopped, and still did not turn to face her when she was right behind him.

“Alastor?” she said again, gentler this time but knowing that he could hear her clearly.

The turn of his head was slow as he looked over his shoulder, and Charlie was almost taken aback to see shadows circling his eyes, emphasising the mild eyebags that he was now sporting. When he fully turned around to face her, one good look at him and it was enough to tell that he looked like he hadn’t had a good sleep in a while, adding to the weathered visage of his façade. But as troubled as he looked, his lips were still fixed into a smile that was familiar about him, albeit looking so out-of-place somewhat.

“Miss Magne. What a surprise,” he greeted with a pressed smile, polite but reserved.

‘Miss Magne’? So, it seemed that they were back to formalities. He must have been taking the situation much seriously than Charlie had thought he would, and somehow it did sting a bit to hear him call her that so coldly, unlike the liveliness when he would refer to her by name. But now simply was not the time to let something so trivial be on the forefront of her concern when there more important things to focus on.

“We need to talk.”

She thought she was firm, yet it sounded weak as it passed her lips, and seemed even more so when Alastor looked absolutely disinterested, coming back with a sharp reply of, “There is nothing for us to talk about.”

“Yes, we do,” Charlie protested staunchly. “I think we ought to clear up some misunderstandings.”

He snorted softly. “Seeing as how it didn’t work well the last time, I’d take it as my point to refuse.” His body turned to step away from her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be heading off on my break.”

“I just need you to spare me a few minutes of your time, then I will leave.”

“Sorry, but no.”

Charlie still was not willing to give in, her tone sharper as she demanded, “I just want us to clear some things up. That’s all.”

Alastor did not seem to appreciative of her stubbornness, seen in how he turned back towards her and leaned down to level his glare with hers. “You had your chance the first time, and you refused it,” he pointed out snarkily. “What could possibly convince you otherwise this time?”

The sudden closeness had Charlie leaning away from him, but the display along with his smile was openly taunting. It immediately struck a nerve in her, and she definitely was not having how contemptuous he was right now.

Against her better judgement, she exclaimed, “Because all this _bushwa_ ’s been piling up and, for God’s sake, all I just want now is a peace of mind, or so help me, I’ll-”

She caught herself before she could continue in this sudden outburst. Her words died out on her tongue, and she sucked in a deep inhale of breath to stop her from speaking any further. In her pause, Alastor straightened up then, eyeing down on her with a contemplative look. His expression still stony but just a little less, but she couldn’t read if there was any hesitation in his features.

However, she did feel it starting anew within her, and was about tempted to properly listen to her conscience that was telling her to stop this nonsense, to have not _horsed_ around and just leave things as unsettled as it was to save her any more trouble, because what more could happen from wasting any more precious time with this infuriating man?

“I have an hour.”

* * *

Charlie could not ever recall a moment that she’s felt this awkward with Alastor.

In a humble little café that didn’t have many patrons at the moment, it allowed them headspace to talk, if it weren’t for the fact that they were both completely silent. Sitting at a tiny table, Alastor quietly drummed his fingers on the tabletop and Charlie fiddled with the hem of her blouse as they looked elsewhere and were actively avoiding each other’s gazes.

Although, it was clear that it was probably just Charlie avoiding his. Whenever she dared herself to look at him, she would find that he was already looking back, and he would only turn away probably just for her own sake and comfort.

She didn’t imagine that it would be this difficult to speak with him again after what had happened; funny, considering how upfront she had been to get him here in the first place. Thoughts of how much this was a bad idea infiltrated her composure once more, wondering if it might possibly lead to a stronger animosity between them. Yes, no doubt there was still that in her after all that he had done, but for the sake of closure, she did not want any more.

When the waiter arrived once more, they both simultaneously straightened up in their seats – trying their best to not look as stiff as possible – as he set their order neatly in front of them, quickly leaving afterwards after being thanked. Charlie remembered that she had just ordered a cup of tea, so why was there suddenly a platter of beignets?

“Help yourself,” Alastor said, picking up his cup of chicory coffee. “I don’t think _noodle juice_ would be enough to fill you up.”

She would have laughed at the way he crinkled his nose as he regarded the tea with slight disdain, but she kept to civility to be grateful for him ordering beignets when she had not realised it. “Thank you,” she simply replied. Adding a couple of cubes of sugar to her cup, she discretely eyed the beignets and thought of how tasty it might be with her tea.

But her resilience would not be swayed with just sweets alone, and she remained kept to quiet civility and did not take one immediately. As they drank in silence and continued to not look at each other, Charlie wondered what must be going through Alastor’s head as he drank. She studied the dark under-eye shadows that peeked above the rim of his cup, surrounding concentrated eyes that made Charlie muse on if he was probably thinking over his words like she was.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

As much as she had been the one to ask for a conversation, she actually hadn’t been sure on how to start it within the awkward silence between them, so it was more than welcome to have him be the one to do so as directly as he had, allowing her to pick it up straight away.

“About what happened.”

Alastor hummed nonchalantly but looked down to stare at his coffee thoughtfully, gently swirling it around the cup. “Hmm… Is it really so necessary?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, considering that you had been the one to tell me you wanted to end things,” he pointed out with a gesture to her, “I don’t actually see a reason for us to tie up loose ends.”

The nonchalance of his tone with the words he had used made Charlie further tensed, running her patience and composure completely to the ground as the irritation started rearing its head. To think that she had decided to pursue this with the necessity of every ounce of composure that she could conjure up for herself, not wanting to be pushed by emotion and snap like she had their last encounter. But how testing he was with his arrogance that was already ticking her off from the get-go at the station, and she was going to have to assert herself regardless.

“Don’t put this on me when you were the one who started it,” she quipped angrily as the growing vexation towards him for the way he was being so smart-alecky. “We wouldn’t even be needing this conversation if I wasn’t being pulled into this mess.”

“What are you talking about this time?” In that bite of indignancy was confusion, and in anticipation of something he wouldn’t like that might take him off-guard. “Did Mimzy say something to you again?

“No, but Niffty and Husk did.”

Alastor was quiet as Charlie glared at him defensively, but at the mention of his two friends, his eyes narrowed with brows knitted in suspicion, already looking like he was not going to like what he was going to hear. Nonetheless, he kept silent and only tilted his head as a gesture to continue.

“I bumped into them yesterday, and it was not pleasant. Niffty was rude, and she told me that it’s because you and Mimzy had a fight over me, and now it’s my fault that Mimzy ran off?”

Charlie left the statement open-ended because she herself was still not sure if that was even true. Well, until Alastor pursed his lips tighter in his displeased smile, the ominous silence as he swirled the coffee in his cup already speaking a lot.

“You actually fought with her?” she asked dumb-founded.

“Yes.” Alastor’s answer came point-blank with no hesitation. “And it was well-deserved for intruding into what was not her business.”

“But Alastor, to the point that she ran off?”

The fact that he did not even deny it and was solemnly stating it as a fact had taken Charlie by surprise, and she was admittedly having some trouble wrapping her head around the thought that Alastor actually did pick a fight with Mimzy, even more so when he did not seem even the slightest bit remorseful about it.

“Mimzy’s always been a coward despite the bravado she puts up for herself. I know that much,” he stated pointedly. “She runs her mouth before thinking and is easily swayed by emotion. She got what she deserved, and all that gusto was for nothing just because she couldn’t take it.”

Another sip of his coffee before he continued on his rant. “I would suppose that it was because of that that she would spew such nonsense, though I must say I wouldn’t have thought that you would actually believe her.”

That remark came with a bite of disapproval to Charlie, sending the twinge of irritation rising again. But before she could retort, Alastor cut her off effectively and asked, “Tell me this; what else did Mimzy tell you?”

The answer to that question came to her easily, considering it’s never actually left the forefront of her mind since the first time she’s heard it from the curvy woman back at the salon. She’s tried to not think of it ever since the encounter at her doorstep, but now it was just sitting heavy on her tongue, almost leaving a bitter aftertaste as she spoke.

“You and she were once nearly engaged.”

She had been expecting his response to be as solemn as he had been thus far, but it definitely took a turn when he suddenly barked out a laugh.

“Ha! Did she honestly? My, how embarrassing.”

He chuckled with his body shook just mildly enough to not send his coffee spilling at the sides, but it was very obvious that it was more of a humourless laugh to fit how unamused he was at the thought. Charlie waited politely waited a few more seconds, before asking, “So, were you?”

Alastor’s laughter died down then, and he heaved out a sigh as he pushed his _bifocals_ up his nose-bridge he shook his head in disdain, as if not liking to relive that memory. “Not at all,” he clarified with a smile that seemed so strained. “She had been _carrying a torch_ for me, and she had asked and been the one to propose to me. I told her that I didn’t want to get _handcuffed_ to her, and ever since then, all I ever gave her in return were _icy mitts_.”

She was definitely unprepared for that revelation, but there was actually a sort relief for Charlie that came at the thought, along with feeling quite self-satisfied that Mimzy had been ridiculous to use a failed engagement like a barb to her – to think that she had been the one who got rejected! Although, as happy as she might be at the clarification, the reason why was still a curiosity to her. And unfortunately, her mind was still not of a clear conscience to not think the worst.

“Was that because… you had others?”

No doubt that she was trying to keep a good poker-face on, but she wasn’t a good liar or pretender, and it bothered her so much that it definitely showed. The strain in Charlie’s voice did not go unnoticed by Alastor, who knew better and looked inquisitive as he read her expression.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” he asked bluntly. Charlie said nothing, looking unperturbed as she nodded.

The turn of the conversation had him releasing a sigh that was stressed, and he placed his cup of coffee down with a loud clink; a mild show of annoyance. Leaning back in his chair and folding his arms on his chest, Alastor levelled his gaze on her as he went _on the up and up_ , “Charlie, you and I are adults. Surely, we can accept that we’ve had relations before meeting each other. I mean, what with you and that _bozo_ , Von Eldrich -”

“That’s not the point,” she argued immediately, which he ignored her and continued on.

“- And I am quite sure you must have enjoyed yourself with your date that night.”

Now it was Charlie’s turn to be completely bewildered by what he had just said, and she was so confused by what sort of outrageous untruth he was proclaiming as such _malarkey_. But the, she remembered what he had said that night that had instigated her outburst.

“That night wasn’t a date. It was an actual meeting with Sir Pentious.”

Alastor raised a brow questioningly. “Who?”

Ah, that was right. He wasn’t actually told about him. “Someone my mother introduced me to during my father’s party,” she explained. “I didn’t mention him to you.”

For a moment, he remained confused, looking at her and thinking that she was bluffing if it wasn’t for the sincerity in her eyes that told him that it was indeed the truth. “Oh,” he said in a deadpan tone, though it was clear that he wasn’t prepared for that answer. With that, it suddenly seemed like he had been caught feeling something that he wasn’t supposed to, and promptly looked away as he took his cup again for another a few small gulps of coffee.

Charlie only watched him curiously. She could be wrong, but did it almost look like he was actually bashful right now? Like he was jealous?

Was he actually jealous?

Charlie would have loved to ask him about it, but for his sake, he wouldn’t. Partially because she presumed that Alastor would just mask it with his pride and would make it a moot point. Besides, she couldn’t think the gesture to be anything flattering, remembering what he had said of her when they’ve had this argument.

“I had thought-”

She cut him off swiftly. “You made an assumption about me that wasn’t true.”

The bite in her tone definitely gave the indication that whatever he had to explain would not quell how offended she had been by him when he had implied that she was ‘moving on so quickly’.

However, it did not intimidate Alastor in any way. If anything, it actually ticked him off by what he considered a hypocritical admonishment. “As did you,” he argued back. “You had thought that I was a womaniser, which I assure you I am not. In fact, I’ve never even had any sort of relationship, mind you.”

There was a moment where Charlie’s face washed blank with confusion like she was not registering fast enough to take in the information from her wide eyes. She was stunned still as her brows furrowed sceptically, eyes searching his for any hint of lying, which there wasn’t.

“You didn’t?”

“Not at all,” Alastor confirmed easily.

“But all those girls that Mimzy said you were seeing…”

“I am no stranger to dating,” he explained nonchalantly, “but never to the point where any of them was _steady_ to me.”

Like the truth of the failed engagement, Charlie would have been hit with a swell of relief to hear of that. Yet, it seemed strange to hear of that, like it sounded too good to be true.

“Had you ever been serious with any of them?”

Shaking his head, he answered, “Not quite, no.”

He said it with such certainty, but again it still didn’t seem quite right. In fact, it only sounded worrying to her thoughts, because if he hadn’t been serious, then would that mean…

“Would that have been the reason why you disappeared?”

Of course, the conversation would end up leading to that topic. They couldn’t possibly ignore that elephant in the room, not with the both of them still feeling the heat from the confrontation that had been born out of his actions. And now, if it were the case that he hadn’t been serious with any partners he had in the past, then would it be that case that she wasn’t serious to him and it was why he had left her like that?

She was almost afraid for his reply, not wanting to seem like an _oil can_ just because she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for him to say something as insensitive or unempathetic as he had done that night, especially with the sting she felt from those assumed thoughts.

Instead, all he uttered was a single, “No.”

So simple, but nothing that could appease her roaring state of mind. It just sounded so void, as if there was no thought that had been put into that direct answer.

“So, if not that, then what?” Charlie pressed. “I don’t think you could do such a thing without reason.”

His answer came harsher than she would have liked.

“I always have my reasons, Charlie.”

His reply came with a direct gaze to her in an icy stare, enough to freeze her into holding her tongue from any more questions. With that cold statement, he did not say anything more on the matter, and from the way he was now again focusing on nothing else but his coffee showing that he did not wish to, it thus put a full stop on that topic as he kept mum.

He was aware of Charlie still watching him intently and unsatisfied. “Do eat,” he said simply, gesturing to the beignets that had still been untouched.

Her dispiritedness at that moment left her feeling no will to refute. In a daze, she blankly picked up a beignet and nibbled on the corners of it, unable to taste much with how bitter her tongue felt from the exchange. She kept to herself and ate, swallowing bites of beignet and sips of lukewarm tea to loosen up how constricted her throat felt in her uneasiness.

Silence fell upon them once more, but not in the confines of their mind, and especially not as Alastor looked at her contemplatively.

“I’ve hurt you, didn’t I?”

Goodness, if they weren’t in public and if she did not give a damn about control, she would have so loved to make a swipe of her hand across that face to probably knock some common sense into him.

Alas, Charlie only snorted softly, voice wry and mocking. “Was it not that obvious?”

Of course, it was. Charlie had always been an open book to him since the beginning and now was no different. Anyone could tell from her dewy eyes that were looking down, and from her clasped hands that were holding her beignet just the slightest bit too tight. Alastor kept watching her, taking in how she was not smiling. Seeing that somehow still bothered him as it always had, which seemed silly since all they were having a direct and truthful discussion that saw no necessity to be in the _dumps_.

But seeing her that way… It didn’t seem silly at all.

“Forgive me.”

He apologised, and it hadn’t really sounded sincere, and she thought it was most probably to upkeep his supposed ‘gentlemanly’ demeanour. But then he continued on, his words more stressed as if he’s put a lot of thought to it.

“Like I told you the first time; I understand that my actions were uncouth, and I shouldn’t have left you the way I did.” A pause for breath or to ponder a bit more, before he continued. “Had I been more reasonable with my decisions, we wouldn’t have to be dealing with these issues, especially you.”

That last bit alone already made the apology different than the last one he had given. While he had previously been more formal in the acknowledgement of his offences, this time he sounded like he had actually meant it as earnest as he could, and enough for Charlie to look back up at him with a much softer glance.

Charlie made no remark on that though, seeing as now was not the time to be particular about good form. Still, as appreciative as she was, her mind remained fixed on the topic that’s been bothering her, and she knew she had to bring it up.

“That night…” A lump in her throat was starting to swell, but she swallowed it down quickly. “That night, you told me that I didn’t ‘deserve the truth’…”

Silence.

“You wouldn’t even tell me what even is the truth, so just what am I supposed to think?”

The smile on his face was small, yet it did not fit with the solemnness in his eyes as he looked down calmly in deep thought. “I was not in the right mind to comprehend things the morning after,” he admitted quietly. “I didn’t know what to think.”

“So, taking off and not showing up was your way to ‘comprehend things’?” she asked, but she sounded more in desperate confusion than in angry accusatory. “You really thought that there was no better way to do it?”

A few seconds passed in more stressing silence, and she watched as conflicting emotions flickered in the way his brows furrowed, the way his gaze hardened, and how he pressed his lips just the slightest bit tighter.

Eventually, Alastor sighed, giving a simple yet dour answer in that one heavy breath.

“It was better than most ways.”

* * *

“Well, I ought to head back to the station,” Alastor commented as he looked at his watch.

Beside him, Charlie just nodded. They’ve exited the café, and the streets were looking pretty busy as the lunchtime rush was almost over. He had insisted to pay the bill, and Charlie had refused it, but no unnecessary argument had been needed when they decided to simply go Dutch.

The air between them was not as tense as it had been in the beginning, but there was still a heaviness that rested on Charlie’s shoulders. She’s had some questions answered, yes, and she was glad that she at least had some thoughts cleared up – she couldn’t quite say she felt sorry for Mimzy, especially when she was ascertained by Alastor that he would talk to Niffty about it to ease up the tension.

However, she still felt like she was still as unknowing as she had been before this. Alastor’s aloofness to certain questions had done well to instigate that, but she felt no choice but to grasp at the straws, internally knowing that he probably wouldn’t get into detail with her just yet – or maybe ever. It frustrated her, but she knew better than to press, for the sake of not looking too desperate for answers.

Alastor was not blind to this disquietude in her, and if he couldn’t care less, he would have just walked off with a quick bid goodbye. However, it was not agreeable to himself to leave her just like that, even with the strain between them.

“I will see you around the neighbourhood then?”

The gentleness of his tone was actually a welcoming change to Charlie, and it allowed her enough to give a small smile in response, though she was mindful to not be so overtly friendly. “If we cross paths,” she replied.

Not a typical response of hers, but he supposed under these circumstances, he should simply take what he could get. With the departing exchange made, he raised his hand for a wave, and it would have been such a standard casual motion if it were not for the cuff of his sleeve dropping just the slightest, because that’s when Charlie noticed something she hadn’t before.

“What’s that?”

When he watched her eyes widen in surprise, Alastor knew it was already too late to keep the bandages on his wrist hidden from her sights.

It was upon reflex that she took a step forward, hands almost reaching out with the want to take his in her hold and inspect those bandages closely. But when Alastor took a step back to keep the distance between them, she stopped, halted by the flash in his eyes. It was useless to put his hand down and pull his cuff over the bandages, for her eyes were still affixed to his wrist on the lingering image of it.

Seeing those bandages on his wrist somehow made her think back to the memory of the scars from that night. She eyed his frame, and as perverted as it may sound, imagined through his clothes all the shapes and patterns and lines that marked his form. How he had even gotten all of those in the first place returned to question her thoughts, provoked by what she had just seen.

“…Alastor…”

The tone of her voice sent a dropping sensation to Alastor’s gut, and the hesitation that was clear on his face grew as he watched her warily in anticipation of what she would do next.

Yet, it was so typically Alastor to suddenly have that front disappear immediately, replaced with a calm look as he smiled a smile that seemed too wide. “Ah, it’s nothing,” he said, his tone casual as if this was just some boring topic to brush off. “Just got a bit of a nick by accident, so it’s just a simple patch-up. Nothing to worry about!”

The assurance sounded fake, not doing much to stop the confused eyes that remained locked on him. Charlie could feel like she was starting to bubble up inside with all the reasons to feel more conflicted, her suspicion arising at this somewhat gratuitous reaction, causing her to assume the worst sort of stories behind the injury on his wrist. But whatever assumptions she had come up with, Alastor was clearly not keen in sticking around and finding out, and the whole language of his body and face made it obvious that he was going to be evasive, unwilling to divulge the topic to her.

“I need to go,” he said, and so quickly that he walked away without another word, not turning back to see her watching him go off into the distance, questioning eyes still fixed on that wrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, at least Alastor's making some progress here - not enough sure, but enough for now? But looks like any hopes of him being more open is dashed with the way he had just lammed off at the end! My heart really goes out to our poor Charlie, who really just wants to stop attracting problems and just move on with her life (with or without him maybe? Hmm...) So does it look like we can foresee these two heading on the path of forgiveness for each other? 
> 
> Once again, thank you my darling lovely readers for showing your support to the SM by taking a few minutes of your time to read~ I've been feeling in a pretty cuddly mood these past weeks and I just wanted to remind all of you of my appreciation. I'd also like to show my love and appreciation for the lovely Hunter B (@hntrgurl13) and Mafuyu (@mafuyu_sakura) for their lovely fanart! (What did I do to deserve this?)
> 
> Well, folks! One thing's for sure; they have a WHOLE lot more to talk about, and Alastor's going to have to get his act right if he wants to get his head in the game. But can that happen without any distractions? (Hmmmm...)
> 
> Until the next chapter! Stay safe and take care!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Foot Juice - Cheap, sub-par wine  
> Blown down – Attacked  
> Should not have taken any wooden nickels – Should not have done anything stupid  
> Bushwa – Bullshit  
> Horsed around – Do things carelessly  
> Noodle juice – Tea  
> Bifocals – Glasses/ Spectacles  
> Handcuffed - Engaged  
> Carrying a torch – Hold an unreciprocated love  
> Icy mitts – Love rejection  
> On the up and up – Be truthful  
> Bozo - A stupid or foolish person  
> Malarkey – Nonsense  
> Steady – Girlfriend  
> Oil can – Stupid girl  
> Dumps – Depression/ Melancholy


	38. Unsound Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

“I must say, Miss Magne. This is definitely far beyond what I’ve expected,” Sir Pentious commented enthusiastically and all impressed as he surveyed one of the rooms for lodging. “Are you sure you would want to have such a finely-decorated establishment act as a rehabilitation centre for _cons_? It seems like a waste, don’t you think?”

Standing beside him so prim and proper, Charlie waved off his question with polite dismissal. “I believe in providing a comfortable environment for my patrons to begin their progress to settle back into society. Make it as homely as possible so that they wouldn’t feel too out-of-place here after serving their _bit_.” 

The meeting had gone in a step towards the right direction, coming to a conclusion with a contract signed by both parties over tea and cookies – ‘biscuits’, Sir Pentious had insisted in his British tongue – and finalisation with a firm shake of hands. The moment had been marked with Charlie smiling so gleefully that it had touched Vaggie’s heart.

Beaming to herself, Vaggie was in awe of these many changes that had happened ever since they’ve moved to New Orleans for this passion project of hers. Her heart swelled with pride for her best friend at finally attaining a potential shot at success for the Happy Hotel, which now looked every bit the comfortable and hospitable establishment that’s always been envisioned. 

Charlie could not have seemed more confident and determined of herself than she had been just a couple of months back. Well, Vaggie knew that she had always been confident and determined, but now even more so with how she smoothly managed the entire thing all on her own. It truly was a wonder to be present as a relatively quiet witness to this well-deserved accomplishment. 

A little bit of chit-chat after the formalities of signing was done, and before long it was about time for Sir Pentious to take his leave. Charlie had volunteered to accompany back as an act of good grace, which would leave the after-duties to Vaggie. 

“Vaggie, would you mind clearing things up around here while I escort Sir Pentious back to his hotel?” she asked politely, looking the slightest bit worn but otherwise wholly satisfied. 

While she would have so liked to be with her and gush over the achievement with a small celebration that was definitely to be in order, Vaggie was understanding of Charlie’s role in continuing to play the accomodating host and did not contest to it.

“Of course not, hon. You go ahead. I’ll see you back here.”

She was met with a smile and a quick hug by the blonde, and the exchange was met warmly before Charlie moved off to meet Sir Pentious outside in his awaiting cab. Vaggie stood at a window in the lobby and watched as they departed, and it was only when they had finally gone down the road that a voice suddenly spoke up.

“Jeez. Look at you, looking all wistful and stuff.”

Angel had been around the entire time, having been the first to come across Sir Pentious when he had first arrived, and somehow ended up calling him ‘Daddy’ in his attempts of flirting. Although, it had been quite hilarious that it had backfired on him when the Brit took the term very literally and had thought that Angel had been some sort of long-lost son. Nonetheless, for his improper behaviour, he had been demanded to stay in his room - he had whined at being punished as though he was a child - until the meeting was over. 

Now that he was free to roam once again, Vaggie was suddenly not so keen on being alone with Angel, especially now that he knew about her inner plight.

She had not quite trusted Angel at first considering how much of a liar he had been to her, although it was her blame that he managed to wheedle something out of her that confirmed what he had already suspected from her expression at the turn of their conversation yesterday. 

However, as stressed as she had been to be questioned about it, it admittedly felt good to finally have someone to confide even just a little bit of detail of what she’s kept bottled up for the past couple of years. Angel had listened intently as she cautiously revealed bits of the secret and he had even understood the dilemma since he was quite the same, although he was obviously more out in the open than her. Also, that was probably the first that Vaggie had felt she was on a similar wavelength on with him, and he did provide such comforting reassurances that she had not known he could actually be quite capable of. 

But as understanding as he may have been, it did not warrant him a pass to press her about it when he didn’t need to. 

“Will you just keep quiet?” Vaggie sighed exasperatedly. “It’s not like it’s anything new to me.”

She pointedly ignored Angel as she walked past him to the office, setting about clearing up the crockery that had been used to serve tea as Angel leaned against the doorframe and watched her in concern.

“How do you handle it? Holding it in for a few years? Doesn’t it ever stress you out?”

A loud clank of two saucers being stacked sounded irate. “You think it doesn’t?” she asked at the ridiculousness of the question.

Angel narrowed his eyes at her response, though more out of concern than annoyance. “Which is why I say it’s better to get it right out your chest,” he stated. “It’s just going to hurt you even more with all this yearning bullshit.”

How simple for him to assume such a thing as if it wasn’t easier said than done. 

Vaggie had never thought it safe to do so since it brought so much risk to someone of her standing, especially if it concerned her employment and close friendship with the Magnes’ daughter. It was probably more for the sake of her own dignity than anything else, because what else could happen should she be found out to be harbouring feelings for Charlie?

There was no way Vaggie was prepared to face the consequences that would occur if she did. It just was not that easy at all. Charlie was her best friend, and only friend at that. Now even more so as they were each other’s companion and confidante, she did not want to let something as stupid as her feelings to risk her potentially losing all of that. 

But it did stress her out. It vexed her more than anything else would, and even more so now that those feelings were threatening to rear its ugly head and burst all because of a certain Alastor Carlon. 

Up until now, Vaggie had not mentioned the fact that she had eavesdropped on Charlie’s confrontation with him at the doorway that night. While it had been good for herself to hear how Charlie had personally and formally ended things with him, she still internally shuddered as she remembered the sight of his eyes flashing to her when he realised that she was there, and he had looked so piercing and menacing that it had forced her into hiding.

And just like his look that had bothered her, so did the irksome intrusive suspicion in her mind that pestered her into thinking that Charlie may not have been over it. 

While she had sounded sincere in her remorse during her tearful apology, there was still a little bit of Vaggie that was stubborn in latching onto certain fears and insecurities, which had intensified when she had noticed how the blonde had been looking so bothered yesterday night. There had been something on her mind that showed clearly on her face, but when asked, Charlie had assured her that she was just thinking about the hotel and nothing else. 

Recalling the deepness in her eyes, it didn’t look to be something of concern for the hotel, but probably something far more pressing. However, Vaggie would not allow her inhibitions to send her into presumptions and did not press Charlie to talk about it, and she reasoned with herself that she was probably looking for something to put the blame on and had just decided on him. 

But how? How could someone like him be able to do so much to break down all the resolve she built over a couple of years in just a matter of months? Just because he rubbed her the wrong way, or because there was something about the way he was around Charlie that made her feel both protective and jealous at considerable highs? And to think that he’s crept in enough to be able to hold Charlie in his arms and made her feel things that she would have wanted! Not only that; to make Charlie betray her and lie to her face! Her, the best friend who’s always been by her side! 

To think that Charlie would do such a thing, and for someone like him...

_…Cálmese…_

With a shuddering inhale of breath and an equally shaky exhale, Vaggie fervently willed her heart to stop racing and to stop making her blood boil. In her unsettling silence, she simply continued cleaning up the tea set, keeping her sights on the task instead of the uncertain look that Angel was giving her. 

She needed to stop. She needed to stop holding on to those grudging thoughts. Alastor Carlon was out of the picture and Charlie had said it herself. Charlie had apologised with all her heart and the hotel was on its way on the right path after so long and that was all that mattered. Charlie was her priority, and everything else didn’t.

Most especially her feelings.

Still, it was absolutely painful to keep holding in the doubt that her best friend could ever feel the same as her.

* * *

Both Charlie and Sir Pentious had barely gotten themselves settled in the taxi that just drove off when the driver popped the question, “What’re you doing quite out a bit away from town?”

“This building here is my rehabilitation hotel,” Charlie replied with a polite smile. 

Looking at his side-profile, she expectantly watched as the moustachioed driver frowned in confusion. “’Rehabilitation hotel’?” he asked curiously. “What’ll that be?”

“A first of its kind here in New Orleans,” she replied in an almost sing-song manner, probably still feeling a little bit exuberant from the successful meeting just a while ago. “I open my doors to former criminals who wish to turn over a new leaf and re-adapt to society!”

It looked like she wasn’t the only one who wished to do a bit of self-promotion because Sir Pentious piped up before she could continue with far more excitability. “Yes! And I just so happen to make myself the very first sponsor of this fine establishment. We aim to have the patrons practice at my future egg carton factory as a means to ‘reform’ them to become functional members of society, my good fellow.” 

Charlie could very much appreciate the gesture he took in being quite eager at the future plan, It was definitely a win in her books at seeing her first official sponsor actually enthusiastic about it with her. Although, it wasn’t long before she was reminded that it wasn’t for the same cause when he quickly trailed off-topic. 

“Did you know that majority of eggs are being sold in a box of dozen around the markets here, my good fellow? That is not enough for a one-time purchase of everyday nutrition! Once we get the hotel up and running and my factory can go into a preliminary full swing, very soon I will be dominating the markets with my boxes of two dozens!”

Charlie nodded in a faux amusement that stemmed more out of politeness instead of genuine interest. “Definitely guaranteed to knock New Orleans off its socks!” she exclaimed in her best gleeful tone, fighting away the embarrassment at seeing the exuberance falling flat with the driver, who hummed out of uncertainty or just disinterest. 

“Alright then. Good luck to whatever it is you’re doing. Though I’d advise you to keep watch around the area.”

The graveness in the old man’s tone at that last bit sounded a bit too off for such a nonchalant conversation, which tickled Charlie’s concern. “Oh? And why so, sir?” she asked. 

“Didn’t you hear the news? There’s apparently been some killing down by the bayous on the border of town!”

Both Charlie and Sir Pentious’ dispositions dropped in an instant, and the car was now filled with an unexpected silence that had the driver give a quick glance over his shoulder to look at them inquisitively. But while she was stunned into silence, her companion seemed to be piqued with curiosity to continue the conversation on his own stead. 

“Oh, do tell, my friend,” he implored, actually scooting to the edge of his seat as though to hear better.

The driver kept his eyes on the road as he began to speak. “Some of the swamp people saw a huge ‘gator with something looking like the remains of a human arm sticking right out its _trap_. Really sent the whole community in a panic. Even had some of ‘em locking themselves up and loading up their shotguns in case.

Charlie could almost imagine that visualisation and she thought it so terrifying for those living near such a ferocious creature. Truth be told, with how the hotel was located in the junction between the bustling city and the bayous, she had every right to be a little fearful herself at the thought of a stray alligator roaming around the forestation surrounding the building, waiting to snap up prey in its powerful maws. Such a thought was enough to send a chill down her spine. She would definitely have to look into the possibility of preventing such an occurrence.

“Well, who’s to say it might not have been done on purpose?” Sir Pentious quipped inquisitively. “The poor soul might have been driven to done himself right into the waters as a probable means to end his life?”

Well, he did have a point there. Such circumstances could lead to the prospect of some committing such painful actions to relieve themselves of their anguish. But the thought of doing so by letting oneself be mauled by vicious alligators was quite extremely morbid in nature, again sending another chill down Charlie’s spine.

However, the driver hummed at Sir Pentious’ speculation, definitely not entirely convinced. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

Sir Pentious shook his head. “I hail from Britain, my friend.”

“Then you clearly haven’t heard about all the missing cases of New Orleans.”

If it were possible for it to be audible, Charlie was pretty sure that they could hear how hard her heart dropped to her stomach.

_…No… No, no, no, no, no…_

“Oh, I have heard of that!’ Sir Pentious carried on the conversation with a newfound interest. “I’ve only been here for a few days on business, but such interesting stories pertaining to the crimes about the city seem to really fly fast around here.”

It was also a good thing that her thoughts were silent to everyone else except her, so they couldn’t possibly hear how frantic her mind was acting up at hearing such a thing. Charlie had never actually thought that there would be a time she wished that he would just keep babbling on about his eggs as much as now, rather than for him to broach on the topic that was once more reliving certain anxieties.

The driver was none the wiser as he answered his query. “Ah, yeah. Scary stuff, that thing. It’s been happenin’ for probably about a decade now. Funny thing is every time the cops thought they’re getting somewhere, there’s always more popping up. Even more funny if you think that there’s not even a single lead on the cases.”

How often had Detective Emil Dalton inconspicuously thrown that word around when he had interrogated her that one time? 

Enough times to still trigger her to mildly panic at the mention of it now, it may seem. 

“Not a single one?” Sir Pentious asked with a quizzical rub of his chin. “I don’t think it’s quite plausible if you were to say that it’s been going on for that long. Surely, there’s at least been an inkling of something?”

There was a second that the driver took to think up of an answer, as if to recall some information he may have missed out. “Last I heard, the only recent one was for some businessman,” he said. “Heard that he was tryna do the ‘funny’ with some little dame and she went to the cops. They turned her away, and he vanished not long later. ”

The dread crept over Charlie and sent her insides turning and twisting to make her feel like she was about to throw up. What an absolutely sickening coincidence that she had just thought back to that one incident with the _gum-shoe_ , and now both unknowing men were indirectly talking about her. It was a good thing that they were too involved in their conversation to notice the way Charlie was gripping the fabric of her skirt under her purse, scooting close to the window like she was pressing herself up in a corner.

“Oh! Somewhat of a crime of passion?” Sir Pentious exclaimed. “How interesting.”

The driver shrugged. “Don’t take my word for it though. Rumour’s flying that the investigation got dropped somehow and chucked aside to the growing numbers with no more thought.”

Rumour or not, that was somewhat of a relief to Charlie to hear of the possibility that the case had gotten dropped. It would be a rather accepting closure to the memory of that dreadful day that had ended much worse with the unexpected arrival of her father to witness said investigation for himself. She shuddered at the remembrance of Lucifer’s displeased face and was internally glad that it seemed that she was given the mercy of not going through any prolonged issues with the _elbows_ to incur his crossness again.

Though, she probably shouldn’t feel relieved too soon while stuck in the taxi filled with a hidden tension that enveloped her, which was not helped with Sir Pentious’ engrossment in the topic. 

“Well, if homicide were the case, it could be very probable. Though, I must say the supposed killer must really be quite meticulous in clearing up their tracks!”

Charlie’s nervous eyes flashed wide to him at his outlandish proclamation, and even the driver had to glance over his shoulder back at him in a double-take. On the other hand, Sir Pentious seemed too into enthralled to notice the touchiness of what he went along with. 

“I’d say New Orleans might be having their own case of a ‘Jack the Ripper’ prowling through the night and _croaking_ innocent unsuspecting victims. They’d even be doing old Jack proud for not getting caught!”

The lightness that he was taking with this conversation somehow earned him an amused chuckle from the driver. “So, somethin’ like ‘The Axeman’ then? Don’t think it’s the same fella, though. This one’s pretty dirtless, except for a couple of weeks ago when they found blood staining a sidewalk down in Lafayette.”

Almost on cue, the distant memory of missing posters printed with the face of the two young _rubes_ came to the forefront of Charlie’s distressed mind, almost too perplexed to catch the driver tutting, “Even the clues there ain’t enough. Either that or the _Johns_ are shit at their job. Lucky _gink_ . Got themself a real _clean sneak_ , the sly _hood_.”

Of course, Sir Pentious was listening to every word very intriguingly and definitely would feel the need to get in somewhat of a final opinion. 

“Wonder how the felon does it? Throwing the bodies to the alligators as a way to get rid of clues, I suppose?”

When traffic was clear and safe, the driver took a glance over his shoulder again to stare at Sir Pentious square in the eyes with the wonderment of how somebody so sensibly-dressed could seem to have a lot of crazy-talk spewing out. But when his gaze went to Charlie, he gave her a soft cheeky look.

“You best be careful, lil’ missy. Sure could be a danger for that hotel of yours be so out here.”

Charlie gave him a small and somewhat strained smile, not saying anything as he chuckled to himself. She anxiously felt like he had let his glance linger a second too long over her before finally turning back to the road, fuelling unwanted thoughts of fear. She willed herself to push away the _heebie-jeebies_ because it was absolutely ridiculous at having to do so for a fear that was neither needed nor necessary or even justified. 

Why did she have to feel that way? She was innocent. She knew she was. She did not have anything to do with any of that except for a couple of mere damning coincidences. 

_...Nothing to do with me…_ The mantra kept repeating in her head in her efforts to calm down. _...Absolutely nothing..._

The end of the conversation was marked with a low rumble of thunder in the skies overhead, where the skies have paled and the clouds were starting to turn a tinge of grey. The trees alongside the road had their leaves rustling in a light breeze, the dead ones falling and sprinkling onto the ground.

“Hmm… Looks like there’s a storm brewin’ over New Orleans.”

The remark made by the taxi driver might have come as a means to break the lull in the conversation. Yet, Charlie couldn’t exactly shake off how ominous that simple statement of fact sounded, as if there was some deeper meaning lurking within.

Alas, she did not say anything more on the matter, and the rest of the ride was considerably silent on her part while Sir Pentious ever so often made a remark about himself and his upcoming factory. She was left unbothered and kept to herself as she gazed out at the passing view of outside, her mind trailing to thoughts of missing cases that’s lingering far longer than she would have liked.

She managed to keep enough of a straight face when they finally arrived at the hotel. Sir Pentious had given a more than generous tip to the driver, who seemed to be happy to be given a reasonable due for both the interesting conversation and enduring his chatter throughout the drive. 

“’Twas a pleasure to be able to view your rehabilitation hotel for myself,” Sir Pentious said with a pleased smile. “I certainly look forward to its grand opening day.”

A genuine smile of her own appeared at his very encouraging words. “Oh, you will surely get an invite once everything is in order,” Charlie assured politely. “So, what will you be doing for the rest of your stay here?”

“I have a meeting with a contractor and a landowner later on in the evening, and then I might head out to take in my last breaths of New Orleans before I depart tomorrow morning,” he explained. “I’ll be returning to the home of the Von Eldriches for a few days before I return to Britain.” 

Charlie only nodded in response, though absentmindedly enough to catch Sir Pentious’ notice. 

“Miss Magne, are you alright?”

“Hmm?” Charlie said, before realising that she had nearly delved too into her thoughts again. “Oh, yes. I’m quite alright!” Her smile widened in answer to Sir Pentious. “Now, I suppose I shouldn’t be holding you back any longer. You ought to have a good rest and a meal before your next meeting.” 

She hoped that the facade was enough to convince him that she was alright and was definitely not thinking about the conversation that had taken place in the cab, and the added touch of niceness had definitely worked its charm in not having him look at her in consideration for long. 

In finality, he bowed at his waist and took her hand to press her knuckles to his lips. “Good day to you, Miss Magne. I shall see you again soon.”

“As will I, Sir Pentious,” Charlie replied with a gracious bow of her head. “Do take care.”

He bade goodbye with a tip of his hat before heading off to the stairs, and Charlie respectfully waited until he was out of sight to start making a move. Her mind was relatively blank as she turned around but apparently was still somewhat too distracted to notice the passing figure that immediately collided into her by accident. She stumbled in her step and was almost off-balance if it wasn’t for a pair of strong hands immediately gripping her by the arms to hold her steady. 

“Woah there, sweetheart!” the man exclaimed with a laugh. “Do watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Charlie found herself unintentionally latching onto the stranger’s arms as she came to a steady stand, and she looked up at the man who was smiling down at her with a pleasant-looking grin. 

She was not exactly sure why, but there was something vaguely familiar about this stranger, like she had definitely had seen him somewhere before. For a second, she studied his _map_ but was only met with uncertainty as she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

But her curiosity was short-lived when he raised a brow at her in confusion, and that’s when she realised that she was still holding onto him. With a quiet yelp, she immediately pulled away and took a couple of steps backwards while looking down to the ground to hide how her face was now red like beets.

“Um… Really sorry,” she mumbled in embarrassment. “Excuse me.”

Charlie side-stepped around the stranger and kept her face looking down as she took hurried steps out of the lobby, too in a rush to notice how he lingered there, watching her with a knowing smile.

* * *

The rain continued showering down on New Orleans late into the night, and it was far too cold and far too wet to try for a hit tonight. So, Alastor decided to pass the time in the speakeasy, where it was already expected of everybody to be wary of him.

Rosie had been unusually silent when he walked in, only giving a small nod of acknowledgement before returning to whatever it was that she was occupied with. She did not spare him another glance nor said anything as he let himself in so at least he could tell that he was still welcomed access to it, although the allowance really felt to be on such thin ice.

As always, the jazz was in full swing with the musicians even swinging to the beat, but he did not find himself with the want to tap his feet and drown in the music. He walked slow and steady, too plaintive to appreciate the tunes of the night.

Niffty had been on the floor serving a few gentlemen their _tiger milk_ and a few _jorums of skee_ , and their eyes met instantly as he walked past her. How quick she was to drop her gaze and perpetually ignore his presence, and he could tell from the way her bottom lip trembled that she was afraid. 

It was an unusual sight to him, to be honest. He had never once looked anything less than jovial, or even tetchy in worst cases. But to see her so frightened of him that she couldn’t even bear to hold his gaze, that was new. Nifty may or may not have guessed if Alastor already knew of what she had done, but nevertheless, the fear of comeuppance was already in place. 

Luckily for her, Alastor was already ascertained that he would not do anything to her. She had not done anything heinous to earn his ire, and he could not easily dispose of the sweet little darling who was such an indispensable ally. That, and it was honestly thanks to her unintentional intimidation that she had unwittingly helped him get dear Charlie Magne somewhat back in his reach.

His thoughts fluttered once more to that of Charlie Magne just as he perched himself on a barstool, too immersed to even give a greeting to Husk. The bartender returned the silence, eyeing him carefully as the rest of them had. Husk only watched as he trailed a finger on the bandages that were covering his wrist, no doubt from the injury that the radio host had attained from his near-deadly altercation with Mimzy. 

There was a brief acknowledgement from both men when Husk set down a tumbler of gin and tonic in front of him, their eyes meeting in greeting but neither saying a word. Alastor simply picked up his drink and took a gulp, attention back to being fixed to nowhere in particular, again becoming lost to thought in his eerie silence.

Husk could only wonder what must be going on inside that man’s head, but he knew well that it must certainly be about Charlie. It made himself think back to the chance encounter with her just a couple days ago, and he wondered if she had actually taken his advice to stay away. He hadn’t bothered to find out if she followed through – why should he, considering that this was neither his business nor his mess to deal with. 

But if she hadn’t, then that was probably going to drive a wedge deeper between Alastor and the rest of them, and there was no way that anyone would want to be dealing with him this time. Husk wouldn’t, even if it meant _being on the nut_ from the lack of jobs.

The pondering hadn’t gone on for long when a patron took a seat a couple of stools away from Alastor. Husk turned to the stranger, who wasn’t at all familiar to him. Pressed pinstripe suit, clean-shaven, fancy homburg at his side; the _Jasper_ looked every bit like the other _butter-and-egg men_ around here, so he’d guess that he was a new face to these parts.

“What’ll you have, _mac_?” Husk asked in his best service tone, which was bored at best.

This did not seem to bother the patron, who replied a tad too cheerfully, “Your finest, please.”

The ice in Alastor’s tumbler clinked at the exact same time his mind suddenly snapped to attention at the voice that sounded beside him. It was a completely new voice, but somehow one he recognised all too well with a sudden shot of dismay to his gut. 

Before he could even turn his head to see, the other had already turned in his seat to face him, and Vox was looking right at him with a dubious grin. 

“Well, what a chance to see you again, Mr. Radio Host.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like even with things going well with the hotel, Vaggie and Charlie's mind aren't at ease and their silence screams with their pained thoughts. While Vaggie faces the dilemma of experiencing a risky love that may put so many things at risk for herself, Charlie can't share off the creepy feeling that the disappearances around tone have a closer connection to her than she would've thought. But oh ho! We'll see if their predicaments are as bad as what Alastor's got coming for him in the face of Vox!
> 
> Things have been pretty slow in real life but I hope that it's been pretty fruitful for all of you around here! I haven't been that active on Twitter and Discord as of late, what with my new regulated sleep schedule that has me cooking out before doing anything else. But I'm glad to see make the time to have a chat with you guys as much as I can! I'll also like to give our usual heartfelt shout-outs to the wonderful artists who's blessed SM with more gorgeous fanarts, so thank you with all my heart my lovely darlings!;
> 
> Danie (@wifeofthesoules)  
> Deya (@DeyaMela)  
> Hunter (@hntrgurl13)  
> Tired Boba (@BobaTired)  
> CD (@CorgiDoodz)  
> Lez Reynor (@lezlyreynor)
> 
> Just how many things can I have going with this new arc of SM? Enough to got me tearing my hair out at what's to come! We're about starting to go down for the second half, but let's not rush into things shall we? Where's the fun in that?
> 
> 1920s slangs:
> 
> Cons (British) - Offenders  
> Bit - Prison Sentence  
> Trap - Mouth  
> Gum-shoe - Detective  
> Elbows - Police  
> Croaking - Killing  
> Rubes - Unsophisticated people  
> Johns - Police  
> Gink - Guy  
> Clean sneak - An escape with no clues left behind  
> Hood - Criminal  
> Heebie-Jeebies - The jitters  
> Map - Face  
> Tiger milk - Liquor  
> Jorums of skee - Shots of liquor  
> Being on the nut - To be broke  
> Jasper - A man of a certain type  
> Butter-and-egg men - The money man, the man with the bankroll, a yokel who comes to town to  
> Mac - Sir
> 
> Spanish translation:
> 
> Cálmese - Calm down


	39. Little Game of Pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of sexual actions, and instances of verbal and physical abuse

As far as Husk knew, Alastor did not have friends.

Well, aside from himself, Niffty and Rosie, and even Mimzy up until what had happened. He could not be too sure if Alastor had anything of the sort at work or when he’s up to God knows what, but he definitely did not seem to be the type to keep people around. ‘Anti-social’ could be what he was. 

So, Husk was not really too sure how he and the stranger seemed to know each other pretty well.

The bartender pried discretely, using the pretence of wiping down wet glasses to keep himself at a distance enough for him to try and listen in. He was not sure why he was not keeping to minding his own business as he always had, especially if it concerned Alastor. But with all the strange and amiss behaviour that the man had been portraying thus far, he thought it best to remain on-guard around him, even if it meant having to be more aware to step in if needed.

Whether Alastor was mindful of being watched, Husk could not be too sure. He probably did and probably did not care, or he was completely oblivious to it with how he seemed far too engrossed in conversing with the new face that had now shifted to sit right beside him. Their voices were low and hushed as though the nature of their conversation was confidential, and that only made Husk all the more suspicious. Even more so when the man in the pinstripe suit said something that followed with a confident smile as he watched Alastor contemplate what he was told quietly. 

Suddenly, the radio host picked up his glass and gulped down the rest of his drink, before standing up and straightening his suit as he waited for the stranger to finish his _corn_. Alastor did not spare another glance to Husk as he took his leave, and the bartender could only watch in inquisitive silence. The stranger seemed to be more smiles than the radio host was at the moment, but there was something kind of unhinged about his look that bartender could not quite seem to grasp how off it seemed.

He kept his eyes on them as they made their way across the floor and back up the stairs, before disappearing to wherever they were going to.

“Hey, Husky?”

Husk turned to Niffty, who was already perched on the barstool. “Could you make me a Sidecar? I’m really feelin’ like a cat on a hot tin roof...”

The poor dolly. She’d been nothing but a bundle of nerves ever since that day with Charlie, being all fearful for her life at the thought that she may have run her mouth off a bit too much and probably get in trouble in Alastor. But seeing as how he seemingly let her off, a drink was much needed to calm down from her little tizzy.

Husk had just put the lemon twist to garnish the cocktail when Rosie suddenly came skittering down to the bar with immense worry and confusion drawn on her features. “Did you see who Alastor left with, Husker?” she asked in a split second. 

Now that was what aggravated the feeling that something was amiss with Alastor, even more so when he nodded in reply and watched as dread began to grow heavy on her face. Even Niffty went on edge, the rim of her cocktail glass hovering on her lips as she waited in anticipation for. Rosie only stared at the top of the stairs as she lightly bit on her thumbnail in unease, worrying her teeth in a manner that was unlike her poise demeanour.

Husk was definitely not liking how ill at ease the air between them hung right now. “Rosie, what’s going on?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Husker,” Rosie muttered heavily. “As much as I don’t know why Alastor just left with one of the Big Apple’s _trouble boys_.”

* * *

When one was part of the underground activities of New Orleans, one would know certain happenings around the city that were kept hush-hush from the _hammer and saws_. 

But Alastor was not sure to what business Vox was leading him to here in Storyville, the area prowling with _pro skirts_ and _rent boys_ that lurked within the shadows in dark alleys and hidden corners.

Of course, they were hiding. The sort of business going on here had been formally abolished a little less than a decade ago, thanks to the mayor who’d just passed earlier in the current year. ‘ _You can make it illegal, but you can't make it unpopular_ ’ had been the famous quote that he had uttered upon closing Storyville, and those words seem to ring true in the number of inconspicuous individuals roaming the streets on the prowl for a pretty-enough face on a pleasant-enough body to fulfil their need for warm wanton desires. 

The streets were as sleazy as its reputation goes, and Alastor could only begin to wonder why the _palooka_ he had agreed to go with decided that this was a nice place to talk. He hadn’t spoken to Vox much ever since they left the speakeasy, but it clearly hadn’t stopped him from yapping off in the silence of the night. 

Alastor had merely stayed a quiet companion, only paying half a mind to what he was talking about, keeping silent as he stewed in his thoughts over the unlooked-for conversation that he had with Vox back at the bar.

***

“The Boss is curious ‘bout how you’re doing, is all.”

It was a too casual statement that Alastor was not buying for a second. “How kind, though I must say the concern is truly not necessary,” he replied politely with a smile that seemed neither pleased nor displeased. 

Vox smirked at his dispassionate reply, before taking a sip of his bourbon and giving it a raise of brows at his approval of it. Alastor too took a sip of his own G and T, ignoring the way the lump in his throat burned when the alcohol washed over it. 

“What makes you think he shouldn’t be concerned?” Vox suddenly asked, pertaining to the last statement that Alastor made.

“I haven’t been doing anything too noteworthy to arise any form of concern,” Alastor answered coolly. “I’d dare say that this conversation would end up becoming just a waste of time.”

Anyone else who heard this coming from him would surely be convinced from his tone of voice and minute expressions that he was being genuine with what he said, and would probably take it as it was. Yet instead, the smirk on Vox’s face grew and his gaze hardened with a certain sombreness that did not sit too well with Alastor. 

“Funny… I wouldn’t really consider nearly _chilling someone off_ someone in one of the backrooms to not be noteworthy.”

As stoic as his expression remained to not emote the change in him, suddenly Alastor’s blood started to feel cold and he could no longer feel the burn of alcohol in his veins. The mars on his wrist seemed to throb under his bandages, pulsating as though it was threatening to break open and bleed out again. In this bout of stillness, the way in which he stared at Vox in hard silence might have given way to the other to detect his consternation under the facade.

“He wants a talk with you on his behalf,” Vox said casually, taking another sip of his drink. “Just to know how you’re doing. So what’s say you and I _blow_ this place and have drinks somewhere more private?”

“Pass.”

His answer had come as steadfast as his reluctance with where this unwanted conversation was heading. Alastor did not fancy the thought of spending any time with Lucifer Magne’s gangsters, and Vox’s little reveal there only sealed the deal in his refusal. By no means was he going to go along with this little game of intimidation that ‘s being played, and this _palooka_ definitely had another thing coming if he wanted to try a hand on him

Vox, however, did not move a muscle to make any attempts of force, only clicking his tongue as he swirled the liquid in his glass boredly. 

“Come on now,” he insisted, “Make it easy for us…”

Alastor caught on the subtleness of the way his eyes flicked to Husk, who had his back turned partly as he cleaned the glasses that did not need cleaning. The tilt of Vox lips was not missed with the glint in his sharp eyes, knowing that he definitely had Alastor’s attention now.

“... or we’ll make it difficult for your friends here.”

***

Alastor knew that he'd caused enough trouble for Rosie, Husk and Niffty as it was, and he was not going to let them get dragged into this unwarranted mess for no good reason.

So, as much as he hated to admit it, complying had been the only choice he had left.

They kept their heads down as they walked down the pathways and did not pay mind to anybody who crossed their path, who were doing the same as they kept to themselves. One wouldn’t know the sort of people that would roam the likes of Storyville, but some probably don’t exactly wish to be seen around these parts. Alastor included, as he hid as much of his face as he could with pulling the brim of his fedora down to just above his brows so that the shadows would mask his _button_.

Thankfully, they hadn’t needed to be out on the street for long, having not strolled far down from Basin Street when they soon stopped in front of a building that seemed to stand right at the heart of The District. It was decrepit and looked to be a _flophouse_ of some manner. 

But while it was no Mahogany Hall, it was every bit the _can house_ it secretly was.

They entered the lobby, where there was a sullen man sitting at the front desk. He eyed both men with a questioning gaze, but there was no word spoken as Vox took out from his pocket a very familiar-looking gold card. Alastor’s lip pursed in disdain at the sight of it while the front desk clerk’s eyes widened in fear, causing him to almost fall out of his chair as he scampered to a blank space on the wall. 

It was far more discrete than the bookshelf at Rosie’s. The clerk pushed at a part of the wall until it dislodged with a click, before being slide to the slide to reveal heavy curtains draping the entirety of the entryway. On the other side, Alastor could hear soft noises that indicate that there were more people inside than the building gave off.

“Welcome to _La Maison de Val_.” 

‘The House of Val’, as it was said in Vox’s broken French, was revealed to Alastor’s eyes with the parting of the thick velvet curtains to the sight of men and women standing around the - surprisingly - lavish interior. Some sat at chairs, some leaned against walls. And if one really paid mind to it, one could even hear the symphony of moaning and other sorts of lewd noises that mingled with the creaking of beds atop wooden floors. The place really could use improvement in sound-proofing these walls, it would seem. 

Alastor was not against the sort of profession these lads and ladies have subjected themselves too, but it did feel strange to have eyes locked on him looking despondent but otherwise expectant to have some change to fill their pockets and make their due with their overused bodies. Some must have misinterpreted his smile to be one of interest and were already putting the flirt on as they preened and peacocked at him. The display could be flattering, but he shuddered internally at what they mean to imply. 

“Now, let’s not get tempted,” Vox chuckled at the sight of a lady lifting her skirts slightly to show a hint of thigh. “Come along.”

He walked down a certain direction, and Alastor followed right behind and paid no further attention to the eyes all around him, ignoring the aweary faces as he kept his sight forward on an overtly ornate wooden door that symbolised its importance to the establishment. A pair of _gooses_ stood guard there, but promptly moved away when Vox let himself in after a single knock to an office that looked more of a lounge than anything else, furniture of lavish velvet fabric and gaudy paintings linking up the walls. 

In the middle of the setting, sitting languidly on a couch in a get-up of furs and flanked by a young man and woman in his arms, was - to Alastor’s dismay - another familiar face. 

“Ah, Vox!” Valentino greeted warmly with a flourish of open arms, pushing away his arm candies as he rose tall. “Good to see you, friend!”

Vox returned the greeting just as ardently, whereas Alastor remained standing a little bit behind him and still kept mum. He watched as the two seat-warmers now scurried out of the door to give the men their privacy, brought upon by a single click of the door.

“I see you’ve brought the radioman himself.” Alastor turned at the mention of him, just as Valentino stepped forward with an extended hand. “Valentino. We’ve met before.”

Alastor took his hand without reluctance to give a firm shake with no introduction needed on his part. Upon releasing their hold, he was gestured to a seat as Vox was helping himself to the stocked liquor cabinet nearby, offering him a _slug_ of whiskey in a crystal glass. He accepted it but did not take a sip, cautious as to whether it could be a _Mickey Finn_.

When the other two men were settled in nicely, they fell into a conversation of their own and talking about business and what’s been going on with either of them since they had last seen each other. All this while Alastor only watched them, anticipating when any of they would turn to him and speak. 

But a moment passed and they didn’t, and his patience was wearing thin, so he wasted no more time. 

“So, might I finally ask what would be the purpose of my being here tonight?” 

It seemed to him that they must have forgotten that he was even there in the first place, which made him even more disgruntled. But they did not seem to give a damn either way when Vox simply replied, “Well, like I told ya. We’re here on behalf of the Boss himself. Nothing too serious! He just wanted us to find out how you been, and if all’s good with you.”

The answer was not enough. “Yes, you’ve made that very clear,” Alastor replied with just enough steel in a show of discontentment. “My only concern now is ‘why’.”

“I already told you why. ”

Bu the mention of the incident alone was not enough to answer Alastor’s query, even more so at the thought of how exactly they could have known. “I’m genuinely curious as to how he’s managed to find out about it,” he admitted openly.

He did not actually expect the answer to come from the other. “Guilty as charged,” Valentino revealed as put his palms up as he smiled not-so-innocently. That had Alastor at a still, and it was like he must have read his mind because he answered promptly, “ _Everything’s Jake_. It’s not like we’ve been watching you or anything if that’s what you think. You could just say that I was just in the right place at the right time.”

The speakeasy was not an exclusive secret once one’s gotten in on it, so it should not come to a surprise that a man under the Big Apple would probably be down there every once in a while to enjoy a drink as well, and probably even see things he wasn’t meant to see.

“Enlighten me on how then,” Alastor prompted, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat uncaringly, although he was anything but that.

“Well, I’m not sure what is exactly that you’ve done,” Valentino drawled as he gazed at his whiskey with a knowing grin plastered on his mug, “but if it had something to do with a fat girl running off crying after with a hand clutching at her neck, it surely must have been quite serious.” 

It would seem that Alastor had been careless. No doubt that night was a fluke on his part, becoming too blinded by emotions to be more aware of precautions he should have noted, like the fact that the Big Apple’s probably - no, definitely - had eyes around that could catch sight of him where he could least expect. Just that thought alone sent a tingle of nerves resonating through him, a sensation he did not like but has been plaguing him the entire night thus far.

“Scared, Mr Carlon?” 

Unnerved? Probably. But scared? The snide bemusement in Vox’s tone earned him a sharp look from Alastor, who did not entertain the very unappreciated question, and instead got his head back into focus to get right on down to the most important bit. 

“Well then, now that we have that out of the bag, probably you would now like to enlighten me on what your Boss intends to get out of having you two bring me here to the sordidest part of New Orleans.” Before either of them could answer, he already did for them. “Wait, let me guess! He’d want me to join the likes of both of you, am I right?”

The change in Alastor’s demeanour was sudden in his ballsiness, but the retort at the end definitely did not go appreciated. 

“Hey, you best watch your tone there,” Vox snapped with a warning finger pointed at him. “I didn’t invite you here to be hit with ‘the likes’ bullshit.”

Alastor defiantly held his glare on Vox’s striking eyes, knowing very well that he was infuriating him by the second like how he had the first time they’ve met, smug at the thought of payback for the implication that he was scared. 

Valentino, on the other hand, was taking the conversation in a more light-hearted manner, but just as invested as the other was. “Well, we were supposed to just a friendly little get-together. But if we’re going to be frank, then let’s be frank!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “And we’ll start with; what exactly does the _Big Cheese_ see in you that’s gotten him pretty interested?”

The question was confusing at first, because why ask a question that they should already know the answer to since that was the whole reason for his coming here. But looking back at their scrutinising stares and it made Alastor realised that what they know off was barely the tip of the iceberg from what more they could have truly known about him.

“This certainly wasn’t the sort of ‘job interview’ I would envision,” Alastor evaded the query with his wry reply. “I barely even had time to talk about myself and my strengths!”

“Don’t be smart, Radio Man,” Vox snapped humourlessly, “Just tell us what we wanna know.”

While he may have dropped the act, he did not drop the lie. “I don’t know,” he replied mundanely, playing dumb with a shrug. “I’m just as curious as you are.”

The farce was not so easily believed by the more experienced men, who knew he was probably just spewing _malarkey_ . “Then let me be clear to you that it definitely has something to do with certain ‘skills’ that you might have. _I’ll level with you_ ; he doesn’t just take in people,” Valentino said. “Only the one’s that’s got something interesting to him. 

The term ‘interesting’ would have been so flattering if only it did not leave such a bitter thought at the memory of his first encounter with the man himself. What was it that he called him? An ‘interesting creature’? 

“What’s gotten him interested in you two, might I ask?” 

He could not help but be a little curious if it applied to these two buffoons too, while also finding out what were their stories in ending up as henchmen. It caught the two off-guard at the turn of the conversation towards them with his sudden interest, but instead of being suspicious, they actually smiled merrily.

“My, I haven’t been thinking about that for a long time!” Valentino exclaimed with a cheerful laugh. “Seems like ages ago.”

“ _And how_ ,” Vox quipped with an equally cheery chuckle. “Well, it’s not really something so absurdly fantastic about us, to be real with you. I just had the unfortunate chance of trying to pass off a very convincing _orphan paper_ in dealing with him, while Val’s here self-made in creating a circuit to provide almost every state with the best _numbers_ to be used for everyone’s pleasure!”

“We ain’t nothing too crazy like Velvet, though. Shame she couldn’t join us tonight. That mad _skirt_ would _mouth_ your ears off about all the hoodoo and voodoo _bushwa_ she claims to practice. Swears on her life that her hexes work like a charm! Heard ol’ Lucifer got so amused when she tried to do one on ‘em that he took her in just for laughs!”

They shared a boisterous laugh between each other as they reminisced over old memories, again leaving Alastor out of their little moment of fondness. He continued to stare hard at them, not really comprehending how such mundane reasons could land them spots under possibly the most powerful gangster in the United States. It was only until his look was taken notice of by Vox that he received more clarity.

“But if you’re wondering what exactly we do that got his attention… Well, let’s just say that we aren’t the type to be afraid to _drop_ someone if need be.”

Ah… now that statement definitely resonated in more sense to Alastor. So these motley crew of _Johnson brothers_ definitely did have something in common to him. No doubt that their hands aren’t the cleanest around, considering this ‘exceptional’ line of work they were in. He could only wonder how the Big Apple managed to come across such peculiar individuals. Maybe the man simply had a knack of chancing upon them in the most unlikely of places.

“Yessirree. That’s how the Big Apple likes his coterie. Ain’t the type to like working with half-assed _bozos_. Oh, no! He handpicks ‘em to his choosing. Got a refined taste, I’ll tell you that! Cold-blooded, vicious, and unafraid. A bonus if you add smarts into the mix, too.”

Vox’s piercing eyes moved from staring thoughtfully at his drink to looking cold and malicious as his gaze was now dead set on Alastor, almost as sharp as they way he interjected his question with a sly curl of his lip.

“So, tell us, Mr. Carlon. What’s gotten him interested in ‘the likes’ of you?”

It was much appreciated that Lucifer Magne had definitely kept his secret even until now, but how curious it was that he was holding back what he knew from them. 

Well, it wasn’t so for Alastor, who knew that it was undoubtedly not really a bid to respect his privacy but to protect his daughter’s. That definitely seemed more plausible because why would he care so much to not reveal things about him that he could just do so easily and without care?

Well, he would if it concerned Charlie’s life on the line.

“I think that’s much-classified information between your boss and me.”

Alastor stared hard at the untouched drink in hand, tempted to take a sip to ease himself into this tense conversation but still not doing so out of suspicion. He kept his eyes on it while Vox and Valentino examined him judgementally, trying to pry an understanding at this disinclination of his. 

“You don’t seem like you’re quite taken with the sort of offer he has for you,” Vox pointed out. 

Alastor said nothing, only raising a brow nonchalantly, which prompted Vox on. 

“I don’t think you’re seeing the appeal of the deal, my friend.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“Protection.”

The word rang through the lull in the room with a strong sense of foreboding, a deeper meaning behind something so simple yet so profound.

“Do whatever he asks, be obedient and don’t do anything to piss him off. In return, he’ll provide whatever you need to make sure that your tracks are covered. Saves us a whole lot of trouble from the _hammer and saws_ , not having to watch our backs so often when he could so easily as snap a finger and all your problems disappear.”

No response came immediately and silence ensued following that little bit of promoting, in which Alastor fell into an inner consideration. 

Ever since he first ventured into his little ‘hobby’, the availability of the elements was always his most effective and convenient methods of disposal. Whether through immolation or getting cut up and fed to the alligators, he’s always been meticulous in making sure that not even one bit of evidence would be left of his victims, which had been made easier with Husk and Niffty’s extra pair of hands. 

But with whatever’s been going on, he was much concerned that he was starting to slip. There had been too many close calls than he could have ever anticipated, and it was frustratingly putting him on edge. He had never once felt the need to watch himself as he did now.

_Protection…_

To be honest, it did seem quite appealing. Having an extra form of back-up to fall onto would have been more than appreciated, and with the sort of influence that Big Apple had, no doubt that it would smooth out so many things for him. Hell, it might even get Husker off his case about getting them all into the crapper!

_Huh… but..._

… If only he hadn’t been so foolish as to even consider asking for his help in covering his tracks when he was about to do ‘the do’ with his own damn daughter!

How laughable it was to have all these unfortunate circumstances befell upon him and unlikely linking him to the Big Apple, who was now out to add him as one of his own for his usage. 

Besides, what else had he said that night?

_All desperate fools will take whatever they can get when Lady Luck’s not on their side._

Was that what he was now? Desperate? Oh no, he was not by any means. He might be in a bit of a doozy at the moment, but by no means was he desperate for a way out. And even if he was in such an urgent need, why give such a pompous individual such satisfaction?

Alastor thrummed his fingers against the crystal glass, watching the liquid vibrate with each touch. This was a cause and effect, something that was weighing heavily on him now. Each move he made and each word he said - Hell, probably even every breath he took! - acted as a cause that could lead to unforeseen effects that he knew not on what to anticipate. 

Yet, it should not have been so difficult in the first place! 

What he had originally anticipated was to get his hands on Charlie, and that was it and what he still wanted.

_… Charlie…_

For all that’s happened; for all the things she’s made him feel and suffer through, and her own damn father playing dirty to get a rile out of him, it’s most unfortunate that the poor innocent really seemed like nothing more than a pawn in these deadly games being played away from the vision of her rose-tinted glasses.

It truly would be a shame for her to get so caught up in it far longer than she should, and maybe that was what pushed him to decide in the end. 

“He ought to hear it from me, but maybe you could pass him the message that my answer is ‘no’."

His defiance was definitely a strong suit that held his decision firm, if not for the fact that it garnered him the incredulous stares of both gangsters in front of him. 

“You certainly got the balls, don’t you,” Vox spieled. “Just so you know; what the Big Apple wants, he‘d definitely get, whether by hook or by crook.”

Underlying threats were nought but disdainful to Alastor at times; something he would usually brush off when it came out the mouths of victims who dared to warn him that he was going to pay for what’ he’s doing. But right now, he knew better when it concerned the brow-beating intent behind those words. 

Alas, he brushed off his uncertainty with his usual bit of cocksureness. “As someone who understands my own value, I’d say he better try harder in convincing than getting a couple of his goons to play a little bit of pressure on me.”

When he placed his half-empty glass down on the table and looked away to the door as he straightened up his suit, he did not notice the way Vox looked like he was about to launch at him from the seat, stopped only by Valentino placing a firm hand on his shoulder to hold him back down. When Alastor turned to them again, they were just looking at each other like they were telepathically communicating with each other. 

It was Valentino who answered, smiling almost overtly friendly for the tension of the situation. “Well, Mr. Carlon, I hope you do have a nice night. And if ever you would feel to use the services of any of mine, feel free to do so! Tell ‘em that Val knows ya, so definitely free-of-charge!”

“I don’t think there would be a need,” Alastor stated, brows drawn together at his gratuitous offer. 

But the pimp only waved his hand dismissively. “Take it as a gift of good-will, if you would. After all, friends should get off at the right foot.”

Alastor would have liked to guffaw in his face at the insolence he had to consider themselves a ‘friend’ to him, but he said nothing in a bid to not incite further conversation. When he finally stood to leave, neither of them attempted to stop him. With a tip of his hat in his bid goodbye, he moved swiftly to the door and made sure his steps did not seem to rush in his eagerness to leave. 

After the door clicked shut behind him, Vox and Valentino could not hear his footsteps as he took off, but they waited a moment to be safe. The clock hanging on the wall ticked by as a moment passed in silence until they were sure that he was out of the building.

“Well, that went well,” Valentino remarked sarcastically as he refilled his crystal glass with more whiskey. 

Vox shrugged and took another gulp of his drink. “Oh, yeah, sure. If you consider being back-talked by some bifocaled smug bastard something ‘well’. The _boob_ ’s seems almost achin’ for a breakin’ with the way he runs his mouth.”

Val paid no mind to his partner’s rant, focused more on rubbing his face in frustration. “Hmm… Boss ain’t gonna be so happy to hear about this.”

Even though not physically present, his presence really did feel heavy in the air that stemmed from the conversation that had just come to a close. But the mention of him now suddenly clicked something in Vox to immediately recall a certain interesting ‘encounter’ he had earlier on. 

“Speakin’ of which; guess who I saw today?”

Vale glanced at Vox from the side of his eye as he brought his drink to his lips. “Who?” he asked with mild curiosity. 

“Lu’s little girl.”

The pimp nearly sputtered on his drink in surprise as he stared at him in startlement. “His daughter?” he questioned almost disbelievingly, which only grew more into confusion when the San Franciscan nodded his head. “Here? In New Orleans?”

“Coincidence, ain’t it?” Vox bemused. “Thought I wasn’t seeing right at first, but there’s no denying that it’s her. An exact splitting image of her old man.” Another tip of his whiskey to renew the flavour on his tongue, and he chuckled at a sudden silly thought. “Wonder if our new ‘friend’ here knows about her too.”

Such a statement caused Valentino to make a gesture of his finger to his lips grimly. “Better _close your head_ ‘bout that. Wouldn’t want Lucifer to know that we know.”

It was an unspoken rule between those working for the Big Apple; if one knew some things Lucifer hadn’t talked about, one does not speak of it. That’s how much the man respects his privacy, especially to the point where he had been willing to go as far as to pull a _boob_ ’s tongue out with a torched pair of clamps to show just how much he expects everyone else to do the same.

Such a thought hung gravely in the silent air, which was cut short by a sudden knock on the door, and a tall blonde Italian young man walked in looking completely exhausted in rumpled clothes.

“Angel Cakes!” Valentino greeted merrily. “How’s my little star doing tonight?”

Angel could not immediately find the voice to reply due to the fresh soreness and strain in his jaw and throat that was making him suffer slightly in silence. The last _trick_ was a ‘mouthful’ and he was more than glad that he ended up not taking another hour in the bordello. Angel felt like he would probably be croaking like a toad if he spoke now, which he didn’t because he was distracted by the sight of Vox. 

The stranger raised a glass at him with a grin in greeting, which was only reciprocated with a blank stare. His presence was not one welcomed by Angel, whose hesitation grew further at the thought that there was now one more watching pair of eyes too many when he had walked into the lion’s den. 

“Did you just come in here to stand around and look pretty?” Valentino asked. “Isn’t that supposed to be what you’re doing outside?”

Snapping back to attention at Val’s impatient tone, Angel immediately reached into the inner pocket of his jacket to take out a wad of bills. “Here’s all the _kale_ from me,“ he rasped as loud and best as he could. “I’m about done for the night.”

The stack that he held in his hands would have been substantial for any other _wagon_ after a long night of working. But for someone of Angel Dust’s stature, it was a definite disappointment to his pimp to see that he was not being _lousy_ with his earnings as he should be. 

Seeing the dissatisfaction beginning to set on Valentino’s face made Angel start to get a bit antsier. “It’s raining, Val,” he explained, trying to sound as calm and reasonable as possible as he continued speaking hoarsely. “Nobody’s out around the streets enough to get some…”

“You wanna give me excuses now, Ange?” Val remarked through an insincere grin, the underlying malice in his tone as sharp as steel through his words. “You really think that useless stack was good enough to bring to me?” 

Angel remained standing tall with his head held high, following his own advice in order to not let it be known that he felt like shrinking on the inside for the onslaught that was about to happen. It did not help that Vox was just sitting in silence and watching so attentively, getting somewhat amused at this shit-show that was about to go down. 

“I’m not giving an excuse,” Angel replied defensively. “I’m just tryin’ to tell ya.”

“Well, it sounds more like an excuse,” Valentino rebutted uncaringly “And you know how I feel about excuses.”

The hurt in his throat and the exhaustion in his bones did not help the frustration that was already boiling over, so much so that he unthinkingly said, “Well, you try standin’ out there in the rain and tell me how easy it is.”

Sometimes, Angel really did run his mouth faster than his thoughts, but at least he was still fast in reflex to avoid the crystal glass that was aimed right for his head. A loud crack resounded along with the fall of tiny shards on the hardwood floor, some projectile hitting Angel but thankfully not enough to cause some serious damage to him. The impulsive action of anger even made Vox jump in surprise, spilling some of his remaining _brown_ on his expensive suit.

Valentino paid no mind to his friend’s muttering of curses as he spat at Angel’s cowering form. “First, you bring me a useless stack, and now you tryna’ get smart with me? I don’t letcha roam these straights to give me sass, you stupid whore. Put your mouth to better use and suck on more _schlongs_ to get me my moolah."

Val’s lashing of temper was nothing that Angel was not used to, but that did not mean that the sort of reaction he would get from it ever stopped. The rapidly-beating heart, the shallow breaths, the sick tightening of his guts. It’s always a shame that he always ended up being the receiver of Val’s bad moods, wondering what’s gotten him all chaffed up this time that he had to be a little more asshole than he already was.

Ah, well. Another shitty night as always, it seemed. 

Angel was damn well sure he’d be in need of a quick fix after tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Alastor's definitely made a choice, and it looks like Vox and Valentino are about to be the bearer of bad news to the Big Apple himself. I wonder how Lucifer might take this sort of rejection from the prize he currently has his eyes on and if he hears about his continued plans pertaining to a certain daughter of his? But alas, looks like Angel's in for a rough time for just a lil bit of relief, my poor baby... 
> 
> If you guys did catch on that this chapter took a bit longer to update than I usually did, well it is because it was *sweat drops* Lockdown in Singapore has recently been lifted and slowly everything's trying to flit back into normality, myself included with returning to work, and it really took a lot on me and my drive to write. As such, I'd just like to make an important notice that the next chapter of Smiling Man will take a bit longer to be posted. I'll be gone for a week in order for me to regain my bearings with real life and also to better draft out the chapters ahead before I publish them, so it should all be ready within two weeks!
> 
> But before I depart for my break, I would just like to thank all of you for your continued support and the well-wishes for my well-being. It's especially put a smile on my face when I receive even more gorgeous fanart from the talented lot of you! So thank you to my darlings Aceebabuu (@aceebabuu), CD (@corgidoodz) and Loonette (@Loonette3)!
> 
> I'll see you with the next chapter, my darlings! I hope Alastor and Charlie's ready for what's coming next!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Corn - Bourbon  
> Trouble Boys - Gangsters  
> Hammer and saws - The Law  
> Pro skirts - Prostitutes  
> Rent boys - Male prostitutes  
> Palooka - Dumb man  
> Chilling someone off - Killed  
> Blow - Leave  
> Button - Face  
> Flophouse - Cheap transient hotel  
> Can house - Bordello  
> Gooses - Henchmen  
> A slug - A drink  
> Mickey Finn - A drink drugged with knock-out drops  
> Everything's Jake - Everything's fine  
> Big Cheese - Big Boss  
> Malarkey - Nonsense  
> I'll level with you - I'll be honest  
> And how - You said it  
> Orphan paper - Bad checks  
> Numbers - Bodies  
> Skirt - Woman  
> Mouth - Talk  
> Bushwa - Bullshit  
> Drop - Murder  
> Johnson brothers - Criminals  
> Bozos - Stupid men  
> Boob - Fool  
> Close your head - Shut up  
> Trick - Customer of a prostitute  
> Kale - Money  
> Wagon - Prostitute  
> Lousy - Full of  
> Brown - Whiskey  
> Schlongs - Dicks


	40. Be On The Up and Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

When Charlie awoke to the morning light, it was to the unexpected noise of a commotion going on downstairs. 

Shooting up on her bed, her conscience came to clear focus immediately to realise Vaggie’s voice sounding very wrathful and furious. Her heart started thrumming in panic at the thought of what could have possibly occurred to get her best friend so riled up this early in the morning, wondering the worst sort of possible dire situations. Scrambling out of her sheets, Charlie barely took one look at her unkempt state of just-waking-up and haphazardly threw on her night robe as she beelined out of her room and straight for the stairs. 

It was only when she took the first few steps down did she finally clearly hear what was going on, and my, was she surprised to hear who Vaggie was engaging in a conversation with.

“If you don’t  _ take the powder _ , I will call the police on you.”

“I’m not even doing anything wrong. It’s not as if I’m breaking in.”

“You’re on Charlie’s property.”

“Then if she wants to play  _ call copper _ , by all means. She’d definitely be a lot more of a  _ wise head  _ about it than you, sweetheart.”

“Alastor?”

Both Vaggie and Alastor - all frowns and the former’s teeth even bared in a growl - turned away from their angry staring contest to a very confused Charlie, who was eyeing the both of them with brows knitted together in concern. 

Her eyes met Alastor’s immediately and Charlie saw the surprise that widened his orbs before he quickly averted his gaze away at the sight of her still in her sleep clothes. She began to feel conscious that she hadn’t straightened herself up properly and felt so exposed, wrapping her robe tight against herself to maintain what decency she had. 

Still looking away, Alastor straightened up his posture and cleared his throat as he composed himself to look like he hadn’t just been involved in some  _ ing-bing  _ with Vaggie, who was now at Charlie’s side.

“He won’t  _ scram out _ ,” she told Charlie with a hard glare in his direction. Vaggie was holding her arm with an agitated tightness, fingers pressing hard into her soft skin as her nervous energy spiked the air in the room to a height of discomfort that did not do well in the blonde’s abruptly-roused state of mind. 

The man in question rolled his eyes at Vaggie before his look shifted to one of kindness when he focused back on Charlie. “Good morning, Charlie,” he greeted politely, giving a nod. “I’m truly sorry if the unnecessary commotion here shook you awake.”

Through her cloudy thoughts, there was only enough mental capacity at the moment to wonder what the disturbance had been about, as much as she wondered what was Alastor doing on her doorstep right now. She stepped away from Vaggie, much to her friend’s reluctance, and came to stand in front of him with a curious frown.

“What are you doing here?” she asked softly, voice still scratchy from just waking up. “What’s going on?”

Alastor flashed a glance to Vaggie, who was still eyeing him with heated disdain, before answering, “Well, before Miss Vaggie here shot a whole  _ jive  _ at me, I wished to only bid you ‘good morning’."

"Is that all?" Charlie asked, because that didn't seem like a significant reason for him to suddenly pop by her door again and so out-of-the-blue after weeks of not doing so.

A slight pause and Alastor looked to be stewing over what to say next, and it came with a loud exclamation of, “Oh, not quite! You see; we actually have a free slot open for an interview for next week, and I wanted to ask you personally if you’d be interested to take it up.”

Another interview? Now that indeed hit her with a strong interest. Oh, what another opportunity that could come just the right time to further develop the hotel’s progress! Considering the success that the previous interview had in attracting some future patrons, Charlie could already envision the sort of results that another interview would bring in increasing their clientele. 

Only thing was; why was Alastor offering this to her? It still did seem so abrupt for him to come to her doorstep with such an invitation since she was pretty sure that they still weren’t exactly on good terms. This was especially considering how their last conversation had ended with him running off, which made this surprise visit all the more strange. 

And the doubt was shared by Vaggie, who made her disfavour known without hesitation in the way she pulled Charlie back into the foyer and looked at her right in the eye with an unmistakable unease.

“Vaggie…”

“I don’t like this, Charlie. I don’t like this one bit.” Suspiciously side-eyeing the man who was lingering at the entryway and watching expectantly, Vaggie asked in a grave mutter, “Can you please… not do it? Please, Charlie?” 

After everything that had happened to them and the fact that their friendship was just only starting to get back to normal, Vaggie had good reason to ask her that, and it made Charlie all the more uncertain on accepting the offer for not wanting to risk having another fight with her. 

It was already enough of a bad thing that she had kept the meeting with Alastor at the cafe a secret from her, thus already discretely breaking the promise she had made. She was so wracked up with guilt at the thought of not confessing, but she still ensured that nothing of that day would be found out. She would rather deal with the sinking feeling of shame than to go through another terrible fight. 

But doing so meant that she had to be careful of how she acted around Alastor when Vaggie’s watching and this moment was definitely calling for that need. She did not want to incite further apprehension on her best friend’s part, even if it meant passing up a good opportunity.

However, it would seem that Alastor was more than keen to reply in her stead. 

“Are you really going to stop Charlie from another opportunity of promoting her hotel?” he questioned Vaggie with a disappointed tone. “Really, Miss Vaggie. That seems a tad bit selfish, don’t you think?”

He said that with a certain sharpness that was quite purposeful, with the look on his face being one that was daring a challenge. While Vaggie may be hell-bent in avoiding the man at all costs, his question and statement did strike a nerve in her, who definitely refused to be provoked in such a manner, nor put down in a way that put her in a sort of bad light towards her best friend’s goals.

She did not want to do this, but she was inclined to say, “Fine, then.”

The smile on Alastor’s face - all smug and shit-eating to Vaggie - started to grow at her compliance, and Charlie only looked at Vaggie in startlement that she would actually agree. Although, she was right to realise that she would not have agreed so easily.

“But I’m coming along this time.”

The growth of Alastor’s smile halted and was replaced with a slow narrowing of his eyes, while Charlie only kept eyeing her with an uncertainty of whether this would be a good idea. Nonetheless, the hardened look in Vaggie’s eyes gave a clear indication that she was not about to take ‘no’ for an answer. 

And so, she didn’t get one. 

The rain had continued to fall all through the night, but thankfully had dissipated by the time morning light came about, leaving only the roads and pavements soaked throughout and littered with puddles of muddy rainwater. Charlie was glad that she opted for a slightly thicker coat when she exited the house because there was a bit of a chill in the air as the skies were almost covered in entirety by light grey clouds.

Walking with heels was slow in order to avoid slipping on the wet surfaces, which had already resulted in a few skids that had thankfully not taken her to the ground. Seeing her skittish walking had Alastor offering his arm for her to hold onto for stability, which had been refused without a word when Vaggie insistently linked her arm with Charlie’s immediately, shooting him yet another glare that made him keep his arm to himself. 

The walk to the broadcasting station had Charlie feeling really antsy on the inside, and it was definitely not just because of the slippery walkways. It must have definitely been an effect from Vaggie, whose nervous energy still hung thickly about her, silent but obvious in how hard her hold on Charlie’s arm was and how she ever so often snuck a cautionary glance at Alastor. He was no different though, judging from his side-profile how tense his smile and how hardened his eyes seemed to be focusing on something of deep thought, probably something very serious from the way his jaw was locked stiffly.

It made Charlie really curious yet unsettled, for her thoughts started trailing to their previous encounter at the cafe, which was making her try really hard to not sneak a look at his wrist. She imagined the bandages as they were when she saw them a couple of days ago, her heart filling with dread once again at the thought of what could have happened to him. She wanted to press the question but refrained from doing so because Vaggie was there, and thus kept herself quiet and pushed down her thoughts like she kept her eyes fixed on the ground while taking careful steps. 

The radio station was busy as it would be in the morning. Alastor held the door open for both ladies, getting thanks from Charlie and stubborn silence from Vaggie, though the cold shoulder from the latter was interrupted when Alastor held a hand up at her.

“I’m afraid Miss Vaggie won’t be allowed inside.”

“And why not?” Vaggie demanded to know before Charlie could ask in a more polite tone. 

“Authorised personnel only, my dear. And Charlie’s here on official business. The station doesn’t allow visitors beyond the lobby.”

That did not sound convincing to Vaggie, and she was not going to take that so easily. “I’m her associate,” she argued, agitation rising anew. “I work for her and the hotel. I don’t see what’s the problem with letting me in.”

She put up a pretty reasonable argument, he must say. But still, it did not deter Alastor from still shaking his head. “Sorry about this, darling. But Charlie gets priority. I don’t make the rules.”

Vaggie was not pleased with this arrangement, and her qualms fueled her into suspecting that he was lying and doing something to try to get Charlie away from her. On the sideline, the relatively-silent Charlie was not comfortable with the friction that this situation was bringing, so she stepped in to bring Vaggie to the side and engage in a discussion that Alastor wasn’t too sure whether it was to placate or dissuade the troublesome _pachuca_. 

A respectful farce was maintained as Alastor stayed where he was to allow the girls to talk it out, but he was honestly quite peeved at how much  _ beefing  _ that Vaggie’s been doing since the doorstep. Even more so with how she’s just decided to tag along here and completely ruin his plans to talk to Charlie alone. 

He had decided since he got back home safely last night that he would talk to Charlie and straightened things out once and for all. His rash decision may have clouded his sense of rational judgment, but he needed this. His talk with Vox and Valentino made it known that Lucifer Magne was dead set on becoming a thorn on his side and the unneeded alarum that the thought of the Big Apple filled him was something he could not allow to stand in the way of his initial plans. 

Time was of the essence, and not a second more needed to be wasted for the sake of his own growing murderous desire to put Charlie Magne in her place, so he had to think hard of a solution now to get the  _ pachuca  _ away from her so that he can get right down to business. He looked around the lobby, wondering if there was anything that could act as a solution he could work with. 

And the solution seemed to come into work right on time. 

“Tom, my good fellow!”

Tom Trench had just arrived to work and seemed to be in a rush when he was stopped by the call of his name. Seeing his more-popular colleague fast approaching him with his usual weird grin in place made him wonder what was he doing here when he wasn’t supposed to be.

“What’re you here for on your off-day, Alastor?”

Alastor was thankful that they were at a distance away to not have that statement be heard by the girls who were still deeply discussing whatever regarded to Vaggie’s apprehension. He certainly did not need his plan to slip because of this  _ palooka  _ here.

“Just the person I wanted to see!” Alastor greeted cheerily with an arm wrapped around Tom’s shoulder, getting him weirded out by the sudden close proximity that was unfamiliar to them. “I’m here to discuss some business with my lovely guest from before but it would seem that she has some ‘extra security’ that needs a bit of telling-off.”

That mention was done with a gesture towards Vaggie, which brought about a clear indication of an inkling of interest in Tom’s beady eyes as he ogled at the  _ dish _ , before clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses to regain composure. 

“Alastor, Katie will have my head,” he muttered uncertainly, although there was something about his tone that didn’t sound like he cared about that too much. Alastor himself couldn’t really give two damns about the fact that the sleazeball was back with his floozy of an on-off girlfriend, more intent on having the man do him this one favour without much resistance.

“I’m not telling you to charm her knickers off.”  _ You perverted little twat.  _ “Just gonna need you to pretend you’re some  _ high pillow _ and tell her that she won’t be allowed in, so I can get her friend alone.  _ Savvy _ ?”

If Alastor had a choice, he would never have resorted to doing this. He and Tom weren’t anything near close to ‘friends’ for him to be asking such a favour, so he was for-sure  _ tooting the wrong ringer _ and this was certainly not a favourable decision to make. But he had no choice, and could only sick up the way it made Tom genuinely curious and even amused that he seemed quite serious to be asking this. 

“My, Carlon. I didn’t take you to be quite the sly dog,” Tom chuckled, unnoticing of how that unnecessary comment made Alastor grit his teeth beneath his pressed smile, and a narrowing of eyes to match when Tom said, “Sure, I’ll help you out. But what’s in it for me, though?”

Of course, it wouldn’t be something for nothing with the sort of chancer Tom was. It was a good thing that he was just as much as a simpleton for Alastor to be able to come up with an interesting-enough offer that would be able to convince him. 

“Help me with this and I’ll get a word in with the boss to have you headline a few of my broadcasts for the whole of next week,” he offered easily with his grin. “Some top stories thrown in, as well!”

As he had expected, the promise of top stories and more air-time was a very good offer to the opportunistic Tom who let himself be led by Alastor to the girls, where his appearance had interrupted the ongoing conversation and was met with questioning gazes from the both of them.

A few words in with Tom flawlessly acting out the role of an authority figure of the establishment did enough to have Vaggie wavering from her initial bravado, and Alastor gloating on the inside at seeing her finally realising her place. He’d have to admit that there was a little pang of irritation that it had to come from Tom instead of him, but he’ll take what he can get. 

Besides, what’s important now was that it finally convinced Vaggie to stay where she was in the lobby, and Charlie to finally be able to leave her side. Before the other girl could even try to speak or protest, Alastor was already gesturing Charlie away from the lobby, and she simply let him as to not cause an unnecessary commotion there. She gave a weak wave to Vaggie, who kept her eyes on them the whole entire time until they were out of her sights. 

And it was when they were out of her sights that Alastor suddenly moved Charlie behind a wall, giving an appreciative thumbs-up to Tom who was going down the opposite way. “You owe me! I’ll be waiting for those stories on my desk,” Tom chuffed as he departed, inciting a mild frown from Alastor and a confused one from Charlie.

“Alastor, what-”

“Hold on.”

Alastor cut her off into silence and took a peek back out at the lobby to make sure that Vaggie wasn’t trying to follow them. Relieved at finding that she was sitting obediently and staying put, he promptly took hold of Charlie’s wrist and led her down the other end of the hallway. Passing by the stairs that she definitely remembered led to the recording rooms upstairs, now Charlie was nothing but perplexed. 

“Alastor, where are you taking me?” she questioned in-between steps, suspicion starting to rise when he still said nothing, still continuing in his trek with her in tow towards a door at the end, which led to the alleyway behind the building. It was dirty and littered with trash, and completely empty. Not the ideal place to be in, but it didn’t matter to Alastor except for the fact that they were finally on their own. 

“Finally! Some peace and quiet,” he exclaimed with a chuckle, releasing his hold to put hands on his hips triumphantly, not paying mind at the moment to how Charlie continued to stare at him warily.

“Okay, what is going on?” she asked in bewilderment. “Why are we here in an alleyway? What about that discussion for an interview?

At the mention of that, Alastor chuckled even more, this time in amusement that was intermingled with a bit of uncharacteristic sheepishness as he scratched the back of his head. 

“Ah, you see, I might have used that as an excuse just to get you out to have a talk.”

Charlie blinked once, twice, three times. 

“I’m sorry… What?”

He couldn’t blame her for her absolute confusion. Honestly, he would be lying if he wasn’t confused with the whole situation himself. 

“Forgive the oddity of it, Charlie, but I had to. I can’t exactly do that privately with Miss Vaggie hovering around like a moth. And she was clearly going to cling onto you and not give me a chance to speak.”

It sounded like a reasonable explanation to Alastor, though the same could not be said for Charlie, who continued wearing a befuddled expression caused by thoughts of a surging perplexity, that also brought a sudden unexpected flare of anger. 

“Did you actually lie about planning another interview... just so you could talk to me?” 

Alright… He definitely should have thought of a more eloquent plan than this whole fiasco of bringing her to the radio station. 

Alastor said nothing and only stared back at her, uncertain of how to respond to the accusation that was so blatantly true. The fixed smile on his face definitely made matters worse for him with how Charlie’s breath was coming short and her face was beginning to get heated when she groaned out loud with threw hands up in the air irately.

“I can’t believe this!” 

The angered exclamation came with the swift motion of Charlie already turning on her heels and stomping the way back towards the door. That certainly got Alastor out of his silence. 

“Where are you going?” 

“I’m going home with Vaggie! To think, you’ve dragged the both of us here for nothing but a load of  _ malarkey _ !” Charlie only allowed so much as a slight turn of her head to throw a dirty look over her shoulder at him. “You really have the audacity!”

She wasn’t sure how fast Alastor had been, because he was now standing in her way and blocking her path to the door. She took a step back in shock at the sudden appearance of his towering form in front of her, and her anger grew.

“Get out of the way, Alastor,” she demanded harshly. 

“Charlie, please see reason that I didn’t have too much of a choice,” Alastor asserted firmly. “Straight-to-the-point was the plan until your little friend decided to give me an  _ earful  _ for no good reason.”

“It was with good reason!” Charlie huffed, trying to side-step around him but failing. “You hadn’t exactly left a good impression on both of us after all the  _ bull  _ you pulled. And not to mention what you did to us!”

Charlie’s mouth instantly snapped shut when she let out the last part, and she was sure that she almost bit her tongue in the process. No way was she going to reveal the fight that they’d had when Vaggie found out about what Charlie had done with him, because that was completely none of his business. 

Thankfully, Alastor didn’t seem that interested in knowing what she was talking about. Instead, he only continued to insist, “Charlie, all I want is to talk.”

“‘Talk’?” Charlie scoffed incredulously. “Really now, Alastor? The last time we talked got us absolutely nowhere, so what’s the point in trying again? In fact, I’ll reiterate your words and say; There is nothing for us to talk about.”

Charlie only repeated his words in a manner to be petty, which the intent was definitely fueled by her anger at being lied to by him again. His statement being said through her lips had him stilling in that moment, and she took advantage of his distraction with her words to get past him to the door. 

But she would have if Alastor hadn’t abruptly shot out his arm to place his hand on the architrave with a little more force than necessary. There was a hard smack of skin against the wooden structure and it had Charlie flinching away in startlement from the loud sound of the contact. The length of his arm was now right in her face and her eyes had trailed to the sight of her hands with wide astonishment. She was not the only one because Alastor too was staring at his own hand in bafflement at his sudden reaction. 

Slowly, their eyes trailed away to look at each other in confusion that he really just done that. Alastor’s hand slid down and fell back to his side, but Charlie did not move even though the way was made free to her. Realising that he was very serious in wanting this moment with her, Charlie was starting to feel quite wary of his behaviour and could only watch him carefully.

“This nonsense has gone on for quite long enough, Charlie,” Alastor said, voice grave and smile solemn. “It’s about time we settled this.”

He felt relieved that she was not trying to get away anymore, but that relief wasn’t quite long-lasting with how quickly it dissipated at the sharp look that she shot at him, lips curled in displeasure with grit teeth bared.

“You want to talk? Fine. Let’s talk. But this time, I expect answers, and for you to be completely _on the_ _square_ with me.”

Alastor opened his mouth to reply, but Charlie held up a finger to silence him. She wasn’t sure whether he was about to oblige or give a sort of retaliation, but she certainly wasn’t going to let him get a word in before she’s asked the most pressing question. 

“I’ll start with this; what the Hell happened to your wrist?” 

It needed to be asked, not only because she was still worried about what had happened, but she needed to know the explanation behind his impetuous reaction that day. Courtesy be damned as she finally allowed her sights to go to his wrist, visualising the bandages that were probably still there hidden by his sleeve.

Alastor noticed the glance of her eyes and it made his stoic smiling face harden with hesitation, not pleased with the topic being brought up. But even if it made him uncomfortable, Charlie was not backing down this time. He could try to wheedle his way out of this confrontation somehow but she would definitely not be having it. When he sighed, she held her breath in anticipation of either an answer or the need to press on.

“This isn’t the most ideal place to hold a conversation,” he replied quietly, “Let’s go somewhere else.”

With that, Alastor stepped away from her face and turned towards the exit of the alleyway, not waiting for Charlie to agree with him before he started walking away. He didn’t need to wait for her though, because he could already tell that despite weighing out her options in the middle of her fuming, she would still follow in his stead regardless.

They kept a considerable space between themselves with no words exchanged as they found themselves walking at a considerably leisurely pace along the bay of the Mississippi River, both looking elsewhere except each other with only the hustle and bustle of New Orleans around them filling the silence. 

Such a far cry from the way they used to link arms and chatter between themselves on their walks before. Charlie was starting to second-guess if it had been such a wise idea to accept going on this walk with him. Not only because she felt bad that it had all been a lie and Vaggie was back at the radio station sitting and waiting as she was none the wiser, but also because of the uneasiness that radiated off Alastor. 

She wondered if the events of the past few weeks may have been the root cause for the way he had been acting. But then again, so what if it was? They were ‘broken up’, and it was majorly his fault for ghosting her in the first place. If his way of coping was to suddenly be shady with who-knows-what he might be doing, then why should she care? And again, what business was it of hers to ask? 

Actually, it was her business. She had a good reason to and she was not going to let it slip this time. She was not going to allow herself to be put in an awkward position where refusal might make things more tense than necessary, fuelled only by that frustrating want to finally get a good grasp on just what the hell was going on with this sort of relationship with the man. 

“Gloomy day, isn’t it?” Alastor suddenly commented with a gaze up to the slowly darkening skies. “Always lovely to take a walk around town before a little rain shower ruined any chances for a breath of fresh air. Wet weather’s upon New Orleans soon, it seems. Best to spend as much time out as possible before it starts raining pitchforks.”

His attempt at  _ beating gums  _ was only met with silence by Charlie, wit the doll still looking elsewhere patiently and not saying anything else. Her discomfort was made clear that she was not even the slightest bit interested in making some idle talk in place of the more pressing topics that were to be discussed. 

But she wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable. Putting aside the fact that she had to bring up the bandages on his wrist, Alastor wasn’t too sure of what to think about the fact that she had so easily taken the reins of a conversation that he was meant to be in control of. It was he who sought her first, and yet how the tables have turned that she was the one taking charge and getting him to do the talking. How surprising and infuriating that things really did not seem to go as planned for him as of late. 

What sort of power did Charlie Magne have to be able to turn the tides against him just with her mere presence and bold personality alone? 

Ah, well. Here she was right there in front of him for the second time since that period of having potentially lost her from his grasp, and there was no need to make matters any more worse for him. Despite how aggravating she was being right now, he would have to consider his actions very carefully to not let her waver from him in order to get back into her good graces, even if it meant entertaining some questions he was not too keen with answering.

“I would assume you’re still wondering about the bandages.”

Yes, she was, although she was actually feeling a tiny bit of regret for asking that unsolicited question, with the heaviness in her mind telling her she should not have bothered and for good reason. 

If he hadn’t been willing to be frank about it their last conversation, what made her think that he would now? Knowing him, there might not be much to expect other than him  _ cheesing it  _ with some outlandish reason, or even just simply evading the question. Neither one would be acceptable to her since she didn’t think she had anything more left in her to allow another doubt or concern to be left hanging in the air to pester her like some pesky fly.

“If you must know, it was because of Mimzy.”

So, to hear him actually directly answer the question so instantaneously actually took her surprise, but none more so than what he had just told her. 

“Mimzy?” The name left a bitter taste on her tongue, but she pointedly ignored it to focus on the topic at hand. “Now, why would…” 

This time it was not what he said that would take her aback, but how he looked. There was a certain graveness in his averted eyes, brought upon by a very telling notion that something really bad had gone down, and that’s when the answer hit Charlie.

“The fight… Did you and Mimzy actually get physical with each other?”

Alastor nodded with no hesitation. “Alastor, you didn’t,” Charlie muttered in disbelief.

He raised both hands up in a show of innocence, careful to not let the cuff of the particular sleeve droop down to reveal his injury. “She was the one who came onto me,” he explained stiffly and matter-of-factly. “I merely restrained her but she kept pouncing like a wildcat.”

While he was explaining himself, Charlie’s eyes roamed back to the wrist, now looking at it with a new sense of astonishment. She could feel her hand almost starting to twitch for her fingers to reach out and gingerly take it to have a look, because how badly did he get injured by Mimzy to have to get it all patched up like that? 

However, quickly remembering his initial reaction and especially remembering his disdain from being touched unnecessarily, she only tightened it into a fist in her restraint. Alastor caught a glimpse of the movement and frowned mildly. 

“Please think nothing of it,” he assured.

“How am I not to?” Charlie replied, sounding almost irritated. “You picked a fight over me, and now you’re telling me that you got hurt? Why couldn’t you come clean about it to me the first time?”

Alastor thought of his hurried departure the last time, and he would really like to damn his own self for having reacted in such a way that had stirred such suspicion in her. So, this was definitely all on him, and it would do him no good to evade the question even further like he had that day. Charlie would only become more insistent the more he did, and it was a pretence that he found unnecessary to keep up. 

It was better to be out with it, he supposed. Although, he knew well as to not divulge the whole truth to her; it’s just that he’s irritated that he had to come clean with it.

“It’s nothing serious beyond that.” He moved his hand to behind his back to take it away from her prying eyes. “I just don’t like making such a thing known. It’s quite pitiful.”

Now that sounded like an absolutely ridiculous excuse to her. “I don’t think it is.” 

But even with how ridiculous it sounded, Alastor stood by what he said. “Well, it is for me.” There was a certain tightness to his voice at this dismay towards the topic, with his words coming out harsher than necessary for what he would consider ‘not serious’. 

Such a curiosity only made Charlie disagree with the statement further. “I don’t really see how you getting hurt can be seen as ‘pitiful’,” she retorted. “Everybody gets hurt. Be it physical, or even emotional…”

Charlie’s word trailed off upon uttering the last word, to which she immediately held her tongue and did not continue. 

Alastor knew immediately what must be going through her mind in those thundering eyes of hers, and he already knew that it was what he wasn’t looking forward to talking about. 

“You are still thinking about what happened, aren’t you?”

Again, an open book was she. Charlie shut her eyes and her lips pressed into a line that showed nerves. “This isn’t about me,” she said. “This is about you, and your behaviour as of late.”

Alastor heaved a sigh; a clear indication of not liking where the conversation was going.

“It is a very complicated situation, Charlie,” he told her as diplomatically as possible. “Even I am still trying to comprehend things.”

‘Comprehend things’. There he went, saying that like everything’s been just some unfortunate inconvenience that hadn’t been so serious to the point where it had completely messed her up for the past few weeks. 

Charlie never liked to be one to put someone in a corner, but she knew this had to be raised, considering that it’s the main reason why there was so much conflict between them in the first place. The reminder of that only brought the bitter resentment that that had grown from those times to rear its ugly head once more, and it took everything in her to push it down and not let it choke her up like it did when he first came back. Her hand was starting to tremble, and she was pretty sure that pure frustration had her teetering on throwing a good  _ kisser  _ at him, making her immediately fold her arms tight against her chest as she looked away with a scoff. 

Alastor could already tell that she was still hurting - she was an open book, after all. He made no direct comment about it for her sake, but he wasn’t sure if he could even press about the matter further than necessary, especially since it still struck quite an uncomfortable chord in him to recall his actions in depth.

But his own discomfort aside, he could not avoid her sensitivities again for the sake of not driving any more of a wedge between them for his sake if not for both of theirs. Charlie was clearly steeping to say out what was on her mind, lest she become overwhelmed to tears once more, and so he obliged her. 

“Say something, Charlie,” he asked gently.

He wanted her to ‘say something’? Fine. She was going to say just that ‘something’ that she’s been wanting to let at him for so long.

“I was really hurt by what you did, alright?” 

“I know that,” he affirmed. “And I apologise.”

Charlie defiantly shook her head in disagreement to him. “It’s not enough,” she said.

That’s right. It was not enough. Yes, he had apologised that day and he was apologising again, and he once more said it in the sincerest way that Alastor could possibly be. But as genuine as it may sound, it still did not sit right with Charlie, solely because she felt an apology could not completely provide clarity to all that had happened. 

“Just saying ‘I apologise’ is not enough for the sort of stunt you pulled. For the sort of hurt that you caused me.”

“Charlie-”

“No, Alastor. Listen to me,” she answered roughly, still not looking at him because she did not want to break from what she was about to say next. “You’ve hurt me. You’ve hurt me after everything we did together. After all the time we’ve spent with each other, after letting you in about myself and my dream, and especially after that night together.”

With the Big Problem that was lingering between them finally acknowledged, it brought the tension between them growing to new highs. Charle could almost feel her gut wrench at having to make mention of that painful memory, whereas Alastor seemed to be squirming on the inside from the way his lips started to press. 

Seeing that did hurt Charlie at seeing his discomfiture over acknowledging it, but none more so than what she had to say.

“You led me on thinking that we had something, and you leaving just made me feel like a complete and utter  _ patsy _ . And you’ve just been so  _ hinky _ , especially now that you practically lied to me today!

_ Oh, goodness. Don’t cry!  _ Her mind screamed at her the minute she could feel tears stinging her eyes, and her initial reaction was to not blink so that no drops would fall. But doing so made her keep her sights dead-locked on Alastor, who was frowning at her reaction. And that hurt her even more, because was he really just going to frown at the fact that she’s just getting filled up all over again with so much distress?

“You don’t even know what you’ve put me through for those past few weeks,” she said like she was almost scolding him for his dispassionate reaction. “You took my trust and you broke it just like that, so just how am I going to believe your apology when I don’t even know if I can trust you?”

Her impassioned speech reached a crescendo with that heavy question. The words had come out in a rush; just as rushed as her mind was was being overwhelmed with so many perplexing thoughts. But even then, Charlie was resolute in keeping her gaze fixed on Alastor, searching his stony face for an answer. He was looking right back at her, reading every bit of pain and hurt that filled her doe eyes, and the sight of it made his heart feel a bit of tightness.

He wasn’t sure why, but it felt so uncomfortable to see her that way. He clearly hadn’t anticipated such a reaction, because he thought that just a bit of reasonable talking and such and things could be all fine and dandy once more. But how wrong he was to assume so and now here he was at the mercy of her woes, and seeing her like that had him actually feeling bad that it was because of what he did.

“Is there anything I can do to make things better, Charlie?” he asked as softly as he could.

It was his fault that he stressed her so much so, and so he expected some sort of comeuppance on his end to  _ take the fall for _ . But there was a lot of things he could have done to make things better; all of it that he didn’t do what he had done in the first place. Neither of them would have to be caught in this situation if he hadn’t just ghosted her, and it frustrated Charlie because she didn’t know if there was even anything he could do to make things better.

“You tell me, Alastor,” she breathed with much strain, holding back the choke of frustration that was threatening to break her down in her confusion.

She cursed herself to be unable to stop the tears from stinging her eyes, but she was stubborn to not want to rub at it in front of him because it would make her look weak. She didn’t think she could really bear to see how he was looking at her at the moment and kept her head hung low with her eyes shut, telling herself mentally that she needed to breathe and not cry and that there wasn’t a need for her to feel like this.

But when Charlie felt the touch of rough and warm skin, she broke out of her half-assed meditation to see her hands being held gently in Alastor’s. His grip was firm but gentle, as were his eyes which gazed at her when he something that made her heart skip a beat. 

“Take me back, and let me try again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovely darlings!
> 
> I am back from my self-imposed exile (BREAK) and am now fully energised and well-adjusted to get Smiling Man back on track! And what better way to pick it up then with a much-needed conversation between our lovely couple who are in serious need to finally settle some lingering issues that's been hanging around for too long?
> 
> But hark! Did Alastor just ask to be taken back? What will Charlie say? :O
> 
> Well, needless to say, things are definitely going to get a lot more interesting with Charlie and Alastor taking some small baby steps to somewhat fixing things? (Though I am more tempted to shove them together and yet both of them into a swamp because THESE TWO CAN YOU STOP BEING STUBBORN?!)
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's really excited for Smiling Man's return! I have been having a blast talking to all of you on Twitter, and as always, I want to thank the lovely readers who's blessed SM with more beautiful fanart! So thank you Procrastin_art (@ArtProcrastin), Gracie (@realfantasicz), ZD101 (@ZD10110) and   
> solesurvivorjen (@mistress_orochi)! 
> 
> Also; special thanks to my absolute darling of a friend, the gorgeous Mama Freya (@wifeofthesoules and writer of The Red Stag's Graveyard) for blessing me with the blessedly cursed mash-up of the three sexiest human Alastors - Mr. Carlon, the Vigilante (The Taxidermist) and Mr. Griffiths (The Red Stag's Graveyard) - in a promised short comic that, to be honest, I don't think my heart or brain can take. Ensue all the face-palming!
> 
> So what will happen to our couple? Will they be on the right track to patching things up, or will there be more hurdles along the way? See you next chapter to find out, my darlings!~
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Take the powder – Get lost  
> Call copper – Call the police  
> Wise head – Smart person  
> Ing-bing – Fit/ Argument  
> Scram out – Leave  
> Jive – Unpleasant talk  
> Pachuca – Mexican girl (A/N: incorrect because Vaggie is Salvadoran)  
> Beefing – Arguing  
> Palooka – Stupid man  
> Dish – Pretty woman  
> High pillow – Person in-charge  
> Savvy? – Understand?  
> Tooting the wrong ringer – Asking the wrong guy  
> Malarkey – Nonsense  
> Earful – An angry reprimand  
> Bull – Bullshit  
> On the square – Honest  
> Beating gums – Idle talk  
> Cheesing it – Hiding it  
> Kisser – Punch  
> Patsy - Fool  
> Hinky – Strange/ Suspicious  
> Take the fall for – Accept punishment


	41. Hanging Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Vaggie had never been one to attend such business meetings before, but she doubted that it could take so long.

She felt like she’d been sitting in that stuffy lobby for hours and being alone left her stewing in her worries and frustrations, both of which were fueled by the irksome mental imagery of that smiling bastard. With each second passed, the  _ heebie-jeebies  _ grew at the thought of Charlie being alone with Alastor Carlon. 

But with that worry and frustration came a niggling of agitation at why couldn’t Charlie have seen how clear it was that Alastor Carlon was trying to play at something. Even she had to be at least sensible to be curious as to why the man that had up and left her to and who she broke things off quite adversely was suddenly appearing at her doorstep and offering her something nice. Wasn’t it just a tad _hinky_ and could possibly mean that he had some sort of ulterior motive? 

Although, she wasn’t just suspicious of Alastor alone. Why did Charlie, who she thought was serious in her proclamation of wanting nothing to do with Alastor again, actually be agreeable to take up said offer? 

Vaggie would have wanted so much to stick to her resolve and thought that she should have been a little firmer with Charlie in understanding the need to refuse the offer. But a simple little poke and she wanted not to feel like she was being a bad person to try to stop Charlie from doing something that could help a lot with the Happy Hotel’s progress. If he really had a more snide meaning beneath those words he had said to her, then Alastor Carlon really did know how to push her buttons well.

As if the jealousy about him wasn’t already enough.

_ No, no, no ... Nada de esa mierda ahora … _ Vaggie was practically begging her mind to not start to wander to unfavourable thoughts. For that, she could only keep herself focused on the main question that was bothering her, and could only wonder what exactly they might be talking about now. 

* * *

It was just a simple touch - just merely a holding of hands - yet the feel of it brought upon vivid memories to flood into their minds; memories of skin to skin all warm and electrifying, heaving breaths that were intense as prayer, and the sensation of exhilarated euphoria from the high that they attained together. 

This was nothing like the last time and paled much in comparison, but there was a certain soft intimacy in the way Alastor held her hands. His hold was gentle like he was holding onto something delicate, and the pads of his fingers caressed just the slightest for her to feel roughness against her knuckles.

It should be awkward for her to feel like this. Unwanted even, because how dare he hold her like this when she’s clearly so distressed by him? It made things worse, not only because it further brought back painful memories, but also because despite how simple it was, this connection already had Charlie’s heart racing and send blood coursing fast through her veins and heating up every inch of her, most evident in the very prominent blush grow across her pale cheeks. 

“What?” she was able to breathe out just that one question, and how quiet was her voice that was so in disbelief at what she was hearing, still unable to fathom the thought that he had just asked her that question.

“I know what I did was wrong,” Alastor told her ruefully, “ and that was completely unacceptable of me to treat you in such a way.” He paused for a moment to take in an inhale of breath, at the same time his hold pressed tighter on her hands. “I never meant to hurt you. Believe me or not, there was never any intention to hurt you. Not after… what we did. All I ask is that you give me another chance to fix things for you, and make it up to you in whatever way possible.”

His hands brought hers closer to his chest. Charlie was as still as a statue but allowed her arms to move with him, and she swore she could almost feel the warmth that radiated off him, but maybe now he was emanating off of her, with how she started to flush even more with what he said next. 

“I just want to be close to you again, Charlie.”

The statement came with Alastor’s fingers closing on hers and pressing her fingers near his heart, sending a jolt through Charlie that drew out air from her form and rendered her breathless, unable to do nothing more but to continue staring into his piercing eyes that seemed jarring against the softness of regret that painted his face. 

His words rocked her mind and left if moving in strange ways; ways that she was unprepared for. His words and his face was all soft and gentle, yet how strong it was to chip at the mental resolve that she thought she had been able to affix for herself. 

Charlie could feel nothing but confusion. She was suspicious still, not sure whether to believe this plead he offered her, but her heartstrings started to feel pulled in various directions that linked to various decisions to make. It made her feel tangled on the inside, all a mess that prevented her from thinking straight until it’s all untied. She wasn’t sure when that would be, because the entanglement felt endless, almost inelastic to release her from this inner turmoil.

“So, what do you say, Charlie?” 

Alastor seemed so uncharacteristically boyish when he asked that as if he was some shy lad who’s asking a dolly out on a first date. It would have been quite an adorable look for Charlie to giggle and smile at if it wasn’t for how dire it seemed in the situation.

“I…”

He smiled so soft and gentle and so very hopeful for her answer, and it nearly broke her. 

It nearly broke the resolve that she's built all those weeks. In seeing those eyes, she felt like she wanted to melt and give in. To hold back his hands just as gently and smile shyly and let herself be engulfed by the warmth that was starting to bloom within her. 

“I…”

But… she just could not find it in herself to give in like this. 

“...I don’t know, Alastor...”

Saying that down-hearted answer left her throat feeling tight and heart feeling heavy. Charlie could breath not another word and could only watch how Alastor’s hopefulness slowly faded away and was shaped into something akin to disappointment and frustration. 

Discomforted, she started to pull her hands away from his, forcing herself to not relish in the remnants of his warmth on her skin. There was no resistance from Alastor, and he simply released his hold and allowed her to slip from his grasp. She did not want to think about how she missed the warmth of his touch as she folded them on her front and kept them there to resist wanting. His own hands fell to his sides, but his posture remained straight if just a little bit taut. That made her very nervous for any sort of sharp response he might have in store for him.

Alas, his expression remained stony along with his voice that only uttered, “Very well, then.”

That was all he said. It wasn’t harsh or anything like that, yet Charlie wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disheartened. 

He moved past her and she thought that he was going to leave, but instead, he went behind her and rested his elbows on the railings of the boardwalk. Charlie herself didn’t think it right to walk away and leave him by himself, and so she silently came to stand beside him and was careful to not make it obvious that she was glancing at him from the side of her eyes. 

Alastor did not pay any mind to her joining him at his side and only continued to quietly look out the view of the Mississipi River, and she wasn’t sure if the look on his face was one of contemplation or nonchalance.

Charlie too looked out the same view, letting herself be distracted by the sights of the riverboats and the sounds of water lapping up against the shore. The heaving waters were turning dark and choppy in matching with the slowly darkening skies above them, which felt like a suited analogy for what must going through their heads at that moment.

They stood there together in companionable silence; one that wasn’t completely uncomfortable, though it could be told that it was quite a burdening one to each of them as the conversation sunk into their thoughts.

Charlie wondered if she should say something. If so, what should she say that could lighten up the sort of conversation they just had? It might not have been too bad because she did not completely reject him, but it was just as bad because by not giving a firm answer, she was leaving them both hanging.

And she thought of the both of them because Alastor wasn’t the only one waiting for an answer. She was too, and it’s ridiculous considering this was coming from herself, but this wasn’t just something she could easily say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to.

Charlie could have - should have - rejected his request because it did not feel right for her to even consider such a thing after everything that’s happened. Yet at the same time, she didn’t seem to want to. There was a part of her - a small part of her that she always tried very hard to ignore - that did not deny wanting to know what was it about Alastor that was making her feel such a way.

She had to ponder to herself about why she was thinking such things, when just a few days ago she thought that she was finally over everything that had happened and could finally move on from his long disappearing act. It had been so convincing to herself, especially with the way she proclaimed the decision with such fervour. 

Yet, here she was contradicting her own words like some hypocrite. And for what? Because there was something about the way he smiled that sent her heart racing? That there was something about the way he spoke gently that she felt so soothed? That there was something in the way he looked at her that made her feel like his sight alone was touching her very soul?

Maybe it was just somewhere in her nature that made her think that there could still be a possibility he could change. Why, that was the whole reason why she even started the hotel - to give people another chance. But maybe it was easier in that sense because the ones she wanted to gift that opportunity to didn’t initially include someone who she had come to develop feelings for and have her heart ripped to shreds. 

How utterly dismaying. Charlie wanted so much to be strong and nonchalant towards him and everything concerning him, but she just could not. If anything, she felt like she was starting to get drawn back in to him once more, and arose the need to pull back before it was too late.

However, she was not the only one facing an internal dilemma, but the conflict of the other was hidden with a sudden question of “So... what have you been up to?”

Silence would do no good to both their unsound minds and further placidity between them could only do much worse. It was easy to tell that it did still bother him, but Alastor saw no reason to continue to dwell on the subject, so a casual conversation was brought up instead for the sake of filling something in between them. 

The break in the silence brought a release of breath that Charlie was unaware she was holding at the relief that Alastor was speaking amicably with her. “Nothing much,” she said. “The only thing worth mentioning is that I’ve had a meeting yesterday for the hotel.”

“Ah. With that ‘Sir Pentious’ lad, yes?” 

Alastor remembered the name she had mentioned, not only because of how ridiculous it was but mostly because of the silly accusation he had directed. Charlie remembered that bit too, but she was still somewhat appreciative that he actually did. 

“So, how did it go?” he asked.

Recalling the successful meeting did have a genuine smile on her face growing at the thought of her achievement. “Very well, actually. He’s been confirmed as my first sponsor.”

There was a short pause then where Alastor’s blankness disappeared as his smile grew into a grin that were paired with widened eyes of pride. 

“By golly, a first sponsor? It’s about time!” he exclaimed cheerily. “Congratulations, darling!” 

She definitely had not expected him to be anything remote to congratulatory after the conversation. But in the surprise of the bright smile on Alastor’s face brought about one of her own. Whether it was just all nicety or not, Charlie welcomed it wholeheartedly.

“Thank you, Alastor.”

“I must say that I certainly had my doubts,” Alastor admitted with a roll of his eyes and a chuckle. “But look at you now, with patrons waiting to check-in and finally bagging yourself a sponsor. You’ve come a long way, darling. If anything; I’m glad that things have been working out for the hotel. You truly deserve it.”

Beaming with rosy cheeks, Charlie became much chipper at this genuinity. Neither of them seemed to be quite aware of how the moment was getting  _ copacetic  _ and started feeling lighter as they smiled at each other. Whatever tension had been lingering between them was forgotten for that short while as they both eased into the appreciativeness of the good news. They were relaxed, and for the first time in what was indeed a long time, they actually felt somewhat at ease with each other. 

Alastor must have been gazing at her for a tad too long because Charlie suddenly looked away once more as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear in embarrassment. Such an insignificant movement, yet something that had Alastor’s eyes shifting to gaze at how red the tips of her ears were like her cheeks that were raised with a smile, making him feel something strange at the thought that he could incite such a flattering reaction out of her. 

“Well, I had to admit that it was mainly thanks to you that I was able to attract some patrons…”

Alastor tilted his head in surprise. “Me?” he said. “I didn’t do anything much.”

Charlie shook her head in disagreement. “You offered me a platform to promote the hotel with a further reach. Ever since then, I’ve had people starting to write in for the first time in months. You don’t know how much something like that had helped…”

The praising suddenly felt awkward on her tongue because all too suddenly, she was reminded of the lie that had occurred to even get her here in the first place. The words that were on her tongue died away and her mood suddenly fell flat with disappointment yet again. 

“Speaking of which… considering that it was all a ploy, I would take it that there won’t be any interview to promote the hotel?”

Alastor must have forgotten all about it because the reminder brought recollection over him. “Ah… No, unfortunately not,” he answered in a mutter.

The answer came to no surprise considering there hadn’t even been an offer in the first place, so Charlie simply accepted it with a hum. She did still feel disappointed at having her hopes up only to fall flat to nothing and had considered for a second to berate him for that again, but she ultimately chose to let it go. She was in no mood to spark a fire for a new fight after the heavy discussion they’ve just had. Even she thought it best to cut some slack. 

Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t think it right to let her wallow in such a letdown. He acknowledged the fact that he had been the cause of it and it actually made him feel bad enough to want to make it up to her somehow.

“But… As an apology, I could definitely pull some strings to add in a reasonably-timed slot to one of my broadcasts next week.” 

He’d definitely have a lot more free airtime now that he’s about to trade most of the bigger headlines to Tom. He was kind of regretting it now considering that the insufficient radio host would definitely not be able to pull off garnering interest with an audience, but what’s done has been done and what else to do now except to make good use of what he had left, and all just for her. 

However, Charlie was not buying it instantly as heshe had the first time, a sceptical brow raised to whether or not this was a genuine offer or simply just another ruse. 

“I’m quite honest this time, and completely free-of-charge once again!” Alastor insisted, holding his palms up and giving his best smile that did seem a lot more sincere in the promise. “It’s the least I can do for today… and whatever had happened.”

She noted then how it was still uncomfortable for him to talk about ‘that’, which seemed kind of sad. Charlie wasn’t too sure of how to make of it but his discomfort still did hurt, and it made her wonder; if he was still going to be ill at ease to properly acknowledge things between them, then how exactly will they ever be able to move on from this? 

“Would that be  _ jake _ ?” he asked, patiently waiting for her answer.

Could this probably be his way of slowly starting to mend things between them, though? Quite unconventional, she must admit. Then again, at this point, Alastor was anything but conventional, and if this was just one of his quirky way of apologising, then so be it. Besides, free advertising definitely sounded quite  _ keen  _ like a good peace offering to start off with. 

“Just enough for now.”

* * *

Just when she was almost driven to the temptation to ask the receptionist to let her in, relief hit Vaggie to finally see Charlie appear in the lobby. She paid not a single heed to Alastor when she was fast out of her seat and beelining towards her, immediately taking hold of her hands when they met halfway. 

“Are we done here?” she asked Charlie with clear impatience to leave as soon as possible. Thankfully for her, Charlie nodded in agreement, and Vaggie did not wait a second more before she was already pulling her out of the lobby.

In her urgency, she failed to notice the way Charlie looked over her shoulder to give the man a wave. Alastor stayed where he was and returned the gesture with a thoughtful smile, though his eyes were somehow clouded with deep thoughts that could not be deciphered. Charlie held his lingering gaze, seeing how it looked like there was something more that wished to be said from the way their eyes spoke to each other. 

It was only when they were out of the building did Charlie turn to face the front, but her gaze on everything around her was blank and unfocused, clouded by deep thoughts that brought a certain moroseness to her features. Her mind was still trying to reel in everything that had happened at the outside moments ago, like her hands seeming to still feel remnants of his warmth on her skin.

She failed to immediately realise the way Vaggie had noticed the way she was reflecting on something, as much as she noticed the way Charlie seemed… quite blank.

“Did he do anything to you?”

Vaggie’s sharp voice brought Charlie back to conscience to pay attention to the hard worried look at that her friend was eyeing her with. Her mind instantly went on alert and forced herself back into a normal composure, not wanting to let herself be distracted when she was supposed to be keeping her cool and acting to convince Vaggie that something had not been done as she had suspected. 

“We just talked about the upcoming interview.” She found it easier to lie about that with the fact that there was already another interview set to be in place., and even easier to smile cheerily at the fact. “Isn’t that swell, Vaggie? We’ll have people pouring into the hotel in no time!”

A wide bubbly smile that was familiar to Charlie began to fix on her pink lips that were stretched wide. Vaggie would have liked to return the affection, but her serious expression remained unmoving.

“Anything else? Did he say anything to you that’s kind of… out of it?”

Sometimes it was quite terrifying how accurate Vaggie’s intuition could. It was almost like she was some sort of psychic to be able to tell. But with however sharp her discernment was, it made Charlie feel like she was walking on eggshells - one wrong move and this whole deceit would come to light.

“Not anything that’s obvious, no. If anything, he seemed really impassive, as if… as if nothing had ever happened at all.”

That was such a bold lie that she had uttered, but it was the only thing she could think off to throw Vaggie off. If she made herself seem like she too was questioning Alastor’s motives, it would at least gain a smidgen of trust with the other girl through empathising her. It looked like it worked because now Vaggie was no longer staring at her in suspicion, but with fearful concern.

“Do you really think it could be ‘nothing’?” Vaggie asked uncertainly.

Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but I do most certainly not to think about that. Absolutely professional, and it won’t be anything more than that.”

She wondered if she might have said something in a manner that did not seem true to her words, or if it was simply Vaggie just trying with a hard stare to get her to squirm under her gaze and fess up with the truth. But like her resolve with Alastor, Charlie was not willing to break it down from weakness and had luckily managed to maintain a nonchalant facade.

“Hey, I’m hungry. What’s say you and I go  _ take on _ ?” 

Right on cue, a growling sound emanated from Charlie’s stomach. She hadn’t actually managed to get a good fix of breakfast before the whole fiasco that morning, and if she didn’t get food in her in the next thirty minutes, she would be bound to feel faint.

So she wrapped her arm around Vaggie’s and led her down a certain path to find a nice restaurant to dine in, not paying much mind to the way Vaggie watched her with a doubtful heaviness that remained silent. 

* * *

“ **_He’s afraid_ ** .”

“Pardon?”

“ **_He’s afraid,_ ** ” Lucifer chuckled at his statement. “ **_I can tell._ ** ”

His boss may be miles away from the telephone booth of his hotel, but the sound of his voice over the landline carried over an underlying sinister intention of his tone that made Vox pause while he mulled it over. 

Vox hadn’t been particularly looking forward to making this phonecall to Lucifer after the unremarkable meeting that occurred last night with Alastor Carlon. He was half-expecting the Big Apple to coat his tongue in venomous disapproval that he wasn’t able to get that radio fucker to do the bidding - something Vox would definitely not appreciate bearing the brunt of it. 

But with how he was taking this so god-damn lightly, it only made the situation feel a little more foreboding. Even more so with how sure the boss was at presuming Alastor Carlon was afraid from just a spoken overview of what had gone on. 

Vox didn’t want to think too much unnecessarily to  _ crab  _ at it though. “He should be scared,” he chuckled to ease some of the tension inside himself. “The  _ palooka  _ won’t know what’s comin’ for ‘im if he refuses.” 

But a tut of disapproval sounded loud and clear on the other end. Vox could almost imagine the way he was shaking his head with the sound. “ **_No, no. Don’t_ ** **bump him off** **_. Not at all. I want him alive._ ** ”

Surprised knocked Vox’s vim down a notch. “What?” he asked. “You want us to _ snatch  _ him?”

Lucifer laughed as if what he had asked was a silly joke. “ **_No. Don’t_ ** **snatch** **_him. In fact, don’t do anything to him at all. I want Alastor Carlon walking to me on his own two feet._ ** ”

Now, this was odd. “That’s a little strange of you,” Vox remarked. For all his years working with the Big Apple, Vox has never known him to actually allow someone so much leeway as to not do anything to hurt a hair on them, especially if that someone wasn’t actually an underling of his. 

“ **_Strange, yes,_ ** ” Lucifer agreed. “ **_But… lately things have been quite strange, indeed. So, why not just have a little change of pace?_ ** ”

Then again, Lucifer was quite the  _ bird  _ who sometimes had an odd way of dealing with things given the situation. He kept everyone on their feet with not knowing what he planned to do next, and it looked like this situation with Alastor Carlon was one of those peculiarities.

“I… I suppose,” Vox replied. He couldn’t do much for whatever the Big Apple had planned, but it didn’t stop him from asking, “So what do you want me to do with him?”

“ **_Stick around New Orleans for a little while more_ ** ,” Lucifer instructed simply, “ **_but don't go lookin’ for him anymore._ ** ”

Vox was not really enthusing the thought of staying in some town that was nothing to write home to lovely San Fran about, which he made somewhat obvious when he asked, “Then what am I supposed to do here?” 

His displeasure of the circumstances wasn’t of the Big Apple’s concern. Hidden on the other line of the phone, how he could be shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly at the question could be imagined. 

“ **_I don’t know,_ ** ” he said uncaringly. “ **_I wanted you to just let me know how Mr. Carlon’s doing, and I’ve got what I wanted to know. But for now, let him stew over it. I want to see what he does._ ** ”

“He flat-out refused,” Vox reminded him, quite uncertain about this little plan that was hatching. “What more can be done?”

That didn’t do much to deter Lucifer, who only said chillingly, “ **Y** **_ou might never know, Vox. For now, we wait._ ** ”

* * *

Slumped against his armchair with a tumbler of  _ corn _ warming in the palm of his hand, Alastor stared blankly into the fire that was warming up his living room on this cold rainy night.

So wild and untamed, yet confined to just be burning in the fireplace was that fire. In his contemplation, he was starting to liken himself to that fire - the desire that sitting uncomfortably in his core that was roaring and tempestuous, yet kept immured by ambivalence.

The room was silent except for the crackling of the flames, yet it was loud with his thoughts that seemed to be all over the place and echoing within the quiet of the house. Each mental stringing of words seemed to come back bouncing at him, going through his head over and over and over again until it was all that he could hear within himself.

Yet he remained numb, moveless and blank in body as his mind kept rewinding the events of early that afternoon. 

It had all been an act on his part, of course. A device to incite something in Charlie to consider what he was asking. If talking to her wasn’t going to be enough, then he needed to resort to a little play of the heart to somehow get her  _ down the garden path _ . 

It felt strange to resort to such a pretence, but overall quite infuriating. Alastor had winced on the inside at how sappy he had made himself sound. It almost felt like he was grovelling, begging her to consider giving him another chance. A smidgen of self-loathe filled him at the thought that he must seem so very pathetic to have been reduced to having to ask a wretched girl for something like this. 

The frustration was fueled the whole time he had held Charlie’s hands in his. His fingers had itched to grab them tighter and grip her to him, to have her in his arms like how he always wanted, to hold her so tight that it would feel like she would never again be able to escape from his grasp. If he had wanted to delve into the fantasy a bit deeper, he made even find himself having his arms around her dainty little neck just to fulfil that self-satisfaction that she was in his hold and thus at his mercy. 

He could have. Maybe should have, even. But he did not; not only because of the pretence he was playing and the fact that they were in public, but also because of how she felt to him.

The sensation of Charlie’s soft warm skin had sent a surge running through Alastor, putting his nerves on end in both a good and a bad way - good because her warmth seeped into the skin of his fingers and filled him with an urge to have more of her on his touch in any way possible, bad because his heart had started to race at how he seemed to relish in that warmth.

And how she looked at him did not make matters any more helpful. Charlie’s pretty face - all awed yet stupefied - had Alastor almost struggling to get those his words out. Her silence had been so daunting that it struck a chord in him, making his heart start to race at how doe-eyed innocent she had looked in the moment. It was a miracle that he kept composure enough to get  _ all six and hit on  _ for the  _ con  _ and just about capable of hiding his true intentions.

He knew that he shouldn’t have wasted time pondering over such frivolities and had told himself over and over again that he needed to tread carefully with this very delicate situation. He needed to attain something, and he should have just kept his mind focused on just that instead of  _ horsing  _ around. 

So what was it about Charlie Magne that had caused conflict inside him that he did not want to have? He was warring with himself with two decisions - of whether to cut this charade short and  _ get a wiggle on  _ from all these nonsensical nothings, or to give her the time and space she clearly needed to reconsider what they had together?

“...Charlie...”

The thought of Charlie engulfed his psyche so disturbingly and it made him clench his fingers around the glass. The sweetness of her name on his tongue was not a favourable taste, quickly drowned out by the gulping of liquor to fill his mouth with sharp bitterness that was befitting to his mood. 

Glass empty, Alastor placed it on the side table before he slumped even more on his chair, sighing out the expulsion of all those thoughts and trying his best to find some sort of peace in the stillness of the moment. He needed this time - it had been a very stressful week with a whole lot of  _ jam  _ and he was all  _ balled up _ , and it would much be appreciated that nothing else would go awry.

Closing his eyes, he forced his mind to be blank as he focused on nothing else but the sounds around him - the pitter-pattering of rain outside, the crackling of fire, his deep inhales of breaths...

… And a sudden knock on the door.

It was a quiet rapping of knuckles on wood, but the sound resonated loud through the silent house, bouncing off the walls enough for it to immediately capture Alastor’s attention out of his musing and promptly send his nerves frazzled to their ends. 

For a second, he thought that it could be Charlie, who might have decided to pop by his house for some reason and probably even come by to talk to him. But recalling those times when she came knocking on his door, he had already become all too familiar with the way her knocks sounded - her pace, her rhythm, her tempo. Her knocks always sounded soft on the wood, gentle but with a hesitation that would fill the calling of his name.

This knock was not soft or gentle or hesitant. Instead, it sounded loud and harsh and irate.

So who could that be  _ buzzing  _ so ominously in this late night?

The wooden floorboards creaked under Alastor’s feet as he rose to full height from his armchair, standing still for a moment to wait for the sound of knocking which came again a few seconds later. He released a slow controlled breath, cautious that the soundless notion would not make a noise. Another knock and a sudden bout of growing adrenaline was propelling him to head to the door, making sure to be a little extra safe by grabbing a poker in the cause of something inevitable to happen. 

The knocking persisted as Alastor approached the door. Call him paranoid, but he felt like the more he inched closer to it, the more urgent the knocking became, as if whoever was on the other side was very well aware that he was coming close. His grip on the poker tightened as he slowly raised it in preparation for some impromptu self-defence.

“Alastor.”

The sudden call of his name echoed through the quiet house, heard by the walls that were actually already quite familiarised with that voice. At hearing it, Alastor’s heart stopped racing then; stilled at first from surprise, then sheer relief, and then a strong bout of confusion. 

His grip on the poker slackened and he let it rest on the floor propped up against the wall before making to open the door with a creak. He peeked through the small crack he made at first just in case, and then held it wide open when he saw that familiar tired face looking right at him with a frown.

“Put on your damn coat,” Husk mumbled in irritation. “You and I are gonna take a walk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. DON'T. KNOW?!
> 
> Charlie, why?!?!?
> 
> But then again, it's a pretty safe answer considering that Alastor's little act of regret was all a ploy.... Or could it? Looks like our usually-confident mind is finding himself wavering at this surprising hesitation that he's facing with our beloved girl. Well, he should practically be shaking in his boots with Husker popping up at his door for a conversation that's long overdue, all while unknowing of what the Big Apple waits in the shadows for...
> 
> Well, Mr. Carlon's better have a clearer mindset than I do at the moment XD Work has been piling up so much that I barely find the time to write and even go online, and I CAN'T BELIEVE I NEARLY FORGOT TO POST A TEASER FOR THIS CHAPTER. Alas, real-life still must go on, but I hope all of you will be patient with me if I am slow in responses~
> 
> But even if I'm not so relatively active as I'd like, I still want to thank all of you for still making things more bearable on Twitter, especially with a lovely fanart of the tender scene last chapter by lovely Gaby (@27kiane)! I'm always still around so don't hesitate to come on and talk to me!
> 
> Until the next chapter, my lovely darlings!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Heebie-Jeebies - Anxiety  
> Hinky - Suspicious  
> Copacetic – All right  
> Jake – Alright  
> Keen – Appealing  
> Take on - Eat  
> Crab – Figure out  
> Palooka – Fool  
> Bump him off – Kill him  
> Snatch - Kidnap  
> Bird – Odd individual  
> Corn - Bourbon  
> Down the garden path – Misleading  
> All six and hit on – 100% performance  
> Con – Confidence game  
> Horsing - Fooling  
> Get a wiggle on – Proceed quickly  
> Jam - Problems  
> Balled up – Confused  
> Buzzing – Come to somebody’s door
> 
> Spanish translation:
> 
> Nada de esa mierda ahora – None of that bullshit now


	42. The Conundrum of Resistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Usage of drugs

The rain had stopped a little after evening but the condensation in the air made the night hold a chill that was biting to bare skin. Most unfortunate for the _coozie_ that didn’t have enough layers on herself to keep warm. Screw having to wear so little to attract some customers; were there even still any customers out in this freezing weather?

The only thing keeping her warm and occupying her time while she waited bored was her third cigarette since she’s come to stand at that dark pavement, but she oughta stop soon because one more and she’d surely be throwing up from all the nicotine coating her tongue and _jingling_ her brain to be all woozy-like. 

Suddenly, she heard the prominent steps of heels on wet concrete, and she turned with her chest sticking out in preparation to entice a potential customer. However, seeing the familiar tall dark silhouette approaching her, she relaxed as her smile softened to a more genuine one.

“Hey there, Ange.”

“Hey there, sugar tits,” Angel Dust greeted Cherri with a lazy smile. “Busy night?” 

Cherri snorted and gestured to the empty street around them. “Oh, yeah. Definitely got the _jacks_ lining up for a piece of these goods,” she cackled sarcastically. “Sure gonna make a good buck tonight.”

Cherri took another pull of her cigarette with a snort while Angel hummed with a smile that was not really reaching his eyes, and that was what made her realise that something was up. His usual brash self would be laughing alongside her and even making a snarky remark or two here and there, but tonight he looked pretty forlorn and disturbed. 

“Ange, baby. You doin’ okay?” Cherri asked with a half-hearted smile, even if she already knew all too well that he wasn’t.

Angel felt no need to lie to his best friend. “Not too good.”

There were only a few things that could make Angel upset, but only one somebody to bring his spirits down at an all-time low. 

“Val bein’ a lil’ bitch again?”

Angel snorted at the mention of their pimp with a sneer, but the heaviness in his eyes confirmed it to be a mechanism to not think about what had happened to make him feel so.

Angel had been all on edge since the incident last night, and he swore he could still hear the echoes of glass shattering against a door resonating throughout his mind. Not wanting to incur further scorn from the erratic pimp tonight, he took to the streets despite the light showers, but he was right to believe that he wouldn’t be chance upon a customer anytime soon. It made him anxious of what Valentino would say when he’d see him not coming up with an adequate amount of cash tonight. Blaming it on the rain again would definitely bring about something worse than having a crystal tumbler flung at him, and he didn’t think he had it in him to face it.

Angel needed to calm down, and he could only think to do it the only way he knew how. 

“Got some on ya?”

Cherri eyed him with a concerned tilt of her head, studying his features and seeing the desperation that marred his face to have a moment of release from certain impending doom. It was one of those nights that she knew Angel wanted to be ‘gone’.

“You know I always do,” she said as she reached into her purse and pulled out a conspicuous little metal vial.

Rubbing his hand dry with the inside of his jacket, Angel held out and bared his wrist for Cherri to draw a neat line of fine white powder. Just a little bit more than the standard for that first hit, but Angel’s already built up quite the immunity for himself with the sorts of doses he would take on the regular. Bringing the wrist up to his nose and snorting it up in one clean go, he can smell it as he inhaled, sharp and stinging up his nose and down his throat in an immediate rush that lit sparks in his brain.

Angel exhaled a ragged sigh of relief, but it’s probably going to take more than that first hit to get to that addled state he desired. He could only hope that Cherri might have more on her. 

* * *

“Any reason for deciding on a walk during such a drizzle? We could have just conversed at my house.”

“I’m not particularly peachy about being alone with you in your house. Don’t wanna find myself all mangled up in your basement.”

“Fair enough.”

Their unexpected walk had taken them where Alastor had been that morning - the bay of the Mississippi River. They were just a little further down from where he had been earlier on, and this part of the city was void of passers-bys, save for a few wandering drunkards, a couple of hobos, and _pro-skirts_ lookin’ to make a quick buck.

It was just a slight drizzle now, but the air brought a sharp chill that could be felt through his thick coat. It wasn’t that cold to see breath vapour being expelled with a breath, but it was cold enough to feel the icy tension prickling between them 

Alastor had known Husk for quite a long time, and the veteran of The Great War was always the type to stay out of people’s business and not give much of a damn unless it concerned him. So it was quite curious that he would seek him out on a rainy night for something as insignificant as a walk. But he knew better that this walk would surely entail some rather heavy discussion, because if it were not, Husker would not have bothered otherwise as he would presume. 

Alastor obliged solely for the fact that the unusualness of it, thinking it to be an interesting turn of events. That, and he wondered what must be so important for the bartender to be coming all the way to his side of New Orleans to drag him out to _move their dogs_. He knew it wasn’t going to be anything trivial, judging from Husker’s unamused - and slightly pissed-off - scowl.

Nothing rather interesting had been brought up as of yet. Alastor had been quite patient and politely quiet so far, just simply walking at a considerable pace beside Husk. But even patience began to wear thin when the dullness of silence began to set in. 

“How are the ladies?”

Seemed like a decent-enough question to start off with. Conversation with them hadn’t exactly been possible with the way they seemed to be quite wary of him last night, but Alastor was concerned with how Niffty and Rosie were doing. 

“Well, they’re doing as best as they can to not get all riled up over you,” Husk muttered. 

Such sweet darlings those two were. Alastor could appreciate the sentiment despite knowing how much pain he had caused to their dear friend.

“If it’s about Mimzy-”

“Mimzy’s already out of the picture, and that’s on you,” Husk cut him off swiftly. “But this ain’t about Mimzy. What I’m talking about is about what business you have with a _goon_ of the Big Apple.”

The air between them was already very cold because of their surroundings, but it felt like it had dropped a couple of degrees enough to have Alastor suddenly freeze mid-step. The halt in his pace made Husk stop as well, turning to look at him right in the eye with a deadpan expression.

“Rosie already knew his kind when he pulled out the gangster’s insignia in her face. Only thing she doesn’t know is why he’s coming to her joint just to leave with you? You weren’t exactly slick when you followed him either.”

From Husk’s description, Vox must have pulled out that golden card with the red apple. Quite convenient in its power as a sort of ‘free pass’ card. It would have been more than a useful tool for Alastor, if only he were willing to finally take it out from the back of his nightstand drawer. 

“So you wanna start _spillin_ ’?”

“An unfortunate circumstance is all.”

“‘Unfortunate circumstance’ my ass,” Husk spat at the unsatisfactory reply. “You aren’t the type to play with the dealings of gangsters, and now you got yourself all tied up with the most notorious one out there? What the hell is that?”

Oh, if only Husk knew what he had meant by that.

The other grumbled to himself as he took his _Lucky deck_ out of his trouser pocket. He was polite enough to offer Alastor a stick, who accepted it with thanks. The men ceased talking for a moment to smoke a few puffs to calm their nerves, much needed since it helped Husk be a bit tamer when he spoke next.

“How’d this even happen, Al? Of all people you gotta find trouble with, why him?”

Underneath his groan was a hint of concern that Alastor found most unusual about Husk, who was about as cuddly as a hissy and scratchy cat and only had a soft spot for probably Niffty and booze. To hear that concern did something to compel him to tell the truth for the sake of easing his poor friend’s worry.

“Remember that night down by Lafayette?”

* * *

“Charlie?”

Charlie’s head shot up to see Vaggie poking her head through the crack of her study door, watching her in a manner of gentle concern. She wasn’t aware that she had been calling for her, probably because she realised that she had been nodding off at her desk. 

“Goodness… What time is it?” Charlie asked sleepily as she stared at the clock through her blurry vision. 

“Late enough that you should be in bed,” Vaggie answered as she made her way to her. “What are you doing, hon? More paperwork?’

Charlie shook her head with a yawn as she picked up the parchment that she had been busy writing before dozing off. “A little bit. But I’ve just been jotting down some notes for the interview.”

Vaggie came to stand at Charlie’s side and took a look at the parchment, reading in her friend’s elegant cursive penmanship all the pointers that she wished to discuss during the said interview. Highlights such as growing patronage and the attainment of a first sponsor were much detailed than the more minute details like new furnishing and such. She could read the excitement in her words even if the writer looked like she was going to knock out, which didn’t seem like a good time to vent out her worries at the moment. 

“You can finish this up tomorrow,” Vaggie nudged her gently. “Right now, to bed.”

The yawn that escaped Charlie only brought more reason to listen, but she was stubborn. “You can go ahead, Vaggie. I’ll just finish up here and head up after.”

Charlie went to shuffling the papers on her desk, distracted in that short moment to notice Vaggie’s pensiveness. The younger girl’s feet started to shuffle like she was about to leave the room, but she stayed fixed in place with her hands wringing and her lips pressing tighter and tighter. It didn’t help that the document that Charlie was working on only intensified her worries. 

Alas, her pressed lips weren’t enough to hold back her questions.

“Are you sure you didn’t talk to Alastor Carlon about anything else?”

The shuffling of papers stopped then. Charlie sure was glad that the nervous hammering of her heart could not be heard in the room. Her sleepiness immediately disappeared and was taken over by alert of the situation, working immediately to keep her composure calm and unsuspecting as she turned to look at Vaggie’s stressed frown.

“Other than the interview? No, not really,” she ‘clarified’. “Just some small talk about the hotel but that’s it.”

Just as she had been earlier that day, Vaggie was not entirely convinced. “Don’t you find it odd?”

“What? That he’s being nice all of a sudden and offering me another interview slot?” Charlie asked curiously in a pretence, already knowing what she meant by that when a nod was given. “Yeah, I kind of do,” she said in agreement. “But whatever it is, I’m just keeping it to a professional basis. That’s all.”

She probably should have put in a bit more effort into convincing Vaggie, but she just did not want this conversation to continue for the sack of her nerve-wracked conscience. And she didn’t trust herself to talk for fear that she might run her mouth enough to accidentally _spill_ something. However, the lack of convincing reassurance had Vaggie pinching the bridge of her nose in her botheration 

“Charlie, I’m still not quite sure about any of this… It seems too suspicious, especially for a _wrong number_ like him.”

Vaggie paused to consider her next words, but nothing came out. With a heavy tongue that was coated with lies, Charlie almost began to feel sick to her stomach. She could only watch as Vaggie took in the farce with dissatisfaction, but knew that an impassiveness would only stir further suspicion.

With a hand trying hard not to shake, Charlie reached out to touch Vaggie’s fingers, imploring the girl to look at the way she was eyeing her with worriment.

“Are you really that scared of him, Vaggie?” The question was very much out of concern instead of scepticism, which was why Vaggie sighed.

“I’m not scared of him, Charlie. I’m scared of what he wants with you.”

* * *

Husk really wished he had packed another flask to drown out the bullshit he had just listened to. But with no alcohol on hand to soothe him, he was half-contemplating throwing himself into the river - or better yet; throw Alastor into the dark waters and make sure his body would never be found.

Alastor could read the murderous intent on Husk’s face, but it did not falter the small smile that still stayed on his lips. But however small it was, it did not go appreciated by Husk.

“Jesus Christ, Al! This ain’t something you take lightly!” he growled, hands flying to his hair and tugging harshly at the roots in frustration. “This is _the_ Big Apple. What were you thinking?!”

Husk did not understand how the bastard was still finding it in himself to take the conversation so casually. “It’s funny, really. He seemed like quite the _bird_ , and I thought it might be quite entertaining to play his game and see how far I go.”

“You’re fuckin’ shittin’ with me, right? Tell me you are.”

Husk’s exasperation at the man’s supposed stupidity was not resolved with Alastor’s chuckle. “Alas, said ‘unfortunate circumstance’ may have caused me to become wholly unprepared of what was to come for me”

Husk’s infuriation distracted him from realising the certain grimness that hung to Alastor’s words. The omniety of his explanation nearly gave way for the truth to be revealed. However, Alastor himself would not allow it to be divulged, especially if it concerned-

“Fuck… As if your little game with Charlie Magne ain’t enough of a headache.” 

Well, speak of the Devil.

“Why do you have to bring her up,” Alastor asked, his tone curious while also a tinged annoyed. “She has nothing to do with this little predicament.”

How Alastor chuckled to himself in his thoughts at that silly lie, but in all seriousness, he wasn’t particularly keen on letting Husk in on that part. He can only imagine the earful he would receive if he found out that he’s been dallying with the Big Apple’s own daughter, even more so with his continued fixation on her, which Husk was quick to bring up in reprimand.

“Because ever since you let that _bim_ waltz into your life, you’ve been nothing but _goofy_ with everything - and I’m not saying that like it’s a cute thing! All that talk about killing her and yet I don’t see her body for me and Niffty to get rid of yet.”

Just a simple statement of fact but enough to have Alastor’s ego bruised at the suggestion of his supposed incompetence towards Charlie Magne. “I’d advise you to watch your tongue with what you speak of, Husker,” he warned. “I’m not rather appreciative of how you’re somewhat belittling me.”

The warning was simply ignored by Husk, whose frustration grew. “See what I mean!” he groaned out loud. “Fuck, this is both nauseating and infuriating!”

“What is? Your absolute tact when it comes to trying to set things straight with me?” 

“No. The fact that you’re pretty much ass-for-brains now just because you’re in love with her.” 

* * *

“After what happened…”

The remembrance of betrayal caused Vaggie to pause for breath when her heart started to clench. Charlie was courteous to not say a word about that incident, just remaining quiet and waiting for her to continue.

“... After what happened, after just hurting you like that, he really had some balls to try his luck again with you. But what I don’t understand was why did you agree to it? Why did you agree with him when you told me that you regretted everything that happened. When you regretted…”

Charlie saw how she winced at the thought of her disloyalty, unaware that Vaggie wished it was just that instead of also spawning from jealousy that burned like venom at the thought of that accursed smiling man. It made her grit her teeth underneath a tight pressing of lips and squeeze her eyes shut tight in an effort to not let any tears escape. 

Vaggie wished that she wasn’t jealous. It was such a stupid and insufferable thing to feel, and it only made matters worse for her as it fed onto her insecurity of how Alastor Carlon had a hold on Charlie, and she seemed to be simply letting him. 

She was too into her thoughts to hear Charlie getting up from her seat and coming to her side until the older girl placed a hand on her shoulder. Vaggie made sure she wasn’t teary-eyed before turning to see Charlie’s eyes showing concern that signified empathy to her worries.

“Vaggie… I want nothing of that nature with him at all. But his influence on the radio is what we need to get the hotel really on the right track. Just a little bit more and we don’t need to be scraping through for opportunities.”

Vaggie really didn’t want to hear any of it; nothing of any sort of praise or gratitude to Alastor, no matter how true it may be. She didn’t want any inkling of envy to grow even a tiny smidgen.

Thankfully that struggle was short-lived, distracted by Charlie taking her hands in hers and gripping it gently as she proclaimed, “I meant what I told you that night when I promised you that I would never hurt you again… I’m still so sorry for how much I’ve hurt you... I value our friendship more than anything else, and I need you by my side now while I work through all of these. Please, Vaggie?"

Charlie’s eyes showed the kind of gentle concern that her mother used to have - one that brought the reassurance that everything was going to be alright, no matter what happened or will happen. She spoke with such a soft voice Vaggie felt her words calming down her anxieties, easing her about the situation that they were currently in. 

But she needed more than just kind gentle words.

“Once that interview is over, and once the hotel goes into full swing, can you promise me that you will never interact with Alastor Carlon again?”

It had to be said, no matter how demanding it may seem. Vaggie needed to make her desire known and be straightforward about it. As straight as she looked hard at Charlie for her answer. It was blank in the other’s eyes, and she thought that there might be hesitation or any indication of a resistance to be barred from seeing that man again - of which it was much to her fear.

Alas, Charlie’s lips tilted into a small smile and nodded her head.

“I promise.”

“You promise?” Vaggie repeated after her, needing a further guarantee in that word.

“Yes,” Charlie answered steadfastly. “Without a doubt.”

The conversation concluded with Charlie taking Vaggie in a hug, and it felt like a blanket of security was covering her in her best friend’s warmth. Holding her back gently, a smile began to grow on Vaggie - one brought by the comfort of reassurance from the one she cared deeply for. 

They stood hugging for a long moment before pulling away, and immediately Charlie was cracking a loud yawn as she sleepily rubbed her eyes. 

“I think you ought to get to bed now,” Vaggie chuckled as she patted her blonde head affectionately.

“I know… Gosh, but we have to be early at the hotel tomorrow though to get Angel breakfast...“ 

The reminder of their only guest and his requirement of meal-times brought a groan out of Vaggie. “I really wish we’d finally have an in-house chef just so somebody can feed Angel in the morning. Maybe even entertain him for a bit, so that we don’t have to.”

“Ah, yes. Remind me to do up some job ads soon. We’re gonna need staffing.”

As Charlie returned to her desk to look through the paperwork that was scattered, the mention of staffing brought the reminder of how much there was more to do for the hotel. Vaggie almost felt bad that she had to lay some heavy stuff on her while she already had many things to juggle, especially now as she watched Charlie sorting through some parchments studiously.

“Why don’t you sleep in?” Vaggie advised her gently. “Get a lil’ more shut-eye while you can. I’ll go ahead to the hotel first thing in the morning. You can take your time and come in a little later.”

The thought of sleeping certainly tempted Charlie. “That would sound wonderful, babe. Can I? You sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course,” Vaggie assured, ever-ready to do whatever she could to support Charlie through this busy period. It was the least she could do in return for her best friend’s promise. 

* * *

A sharp rebuttal should have come through, but instead, Alastor was only wide-eyed in bewilderment when he sputtered, “What did you say?”

“Listen, dumb ass,” Husk said with harsh swiftness, a contrary to Alastor’s minor falter. “At this point, it’s pretty fucking obvious that the only reason you haven't _croaked_ her yet and making her into étouffée is that you are,” he exclaimed with a tone that stated fact. “All of us know enough since you up and canoodled with her at the _drum_. You’ve even _barneymugged_ the girl, Al! That says a lot!”

The frown became deep-set on Alastor, changing from one of startlement to one of irritation. 

“Merely leading her on, was all,” Alastor muttered defensively. “I don’t play my games half-assed, and I’m certainly not going to for a catch like her. Though, I would have had the job done quicker if it wasn’t for Mimzy’s meddling.”

He was all haughty air of indignance with a bravado of straightening his back and putting his hands behind his back in a manner that seemed too rigid for one of nonchalance. Face stoic in his smile, Alastor looked down at Husk, who gawked at him in astonishment.

“Jesus, Alastor. Are you that dense?"

Alastor’s expression scrunched up into further indignation at Husk’s daring proclamation, but the bartender did not want to hold back at his barb.

“Get your head out of your ass, why don’cha? ‘Game’ or not, you would have gotten the job done ASAP if you weren’t _dizzy for that dame_.”

“I’m not,” Alastor replied a little too sharply, clearly being defensive.

He may be a self-professed drunkard who ever-so-often subjected his mind to be _half-seas over_ , but Husk was still as sharp as nails to be able to see the blatant fact that Alastor was lying to himself; even curiouser was how much he was forcing himself to deny it. 

“Yes, you are. I know it. Niffty knows it. Hell, even Rosie and Mimzy! And I know for sure that you do too.”

“Neither of you know anything,” Alastor scoffed with a dismissive shake of his head. “Really! The sort of silly assumptions you lot come up with!”

Now, this was just getting ridiculous. “Oh, Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Husk groaned aloud as he rubbed his face irately. “You still tryna play yourself? Alastor, if you were in that same psychotic cannibal I’ve always known, you would have been done with her by the first few days you laid eyes on her.”

“That was the plan, yes, but-”

“‘But’ what, Al? From what I can see, you’ve pretty much gone so far off that I can bet my last dollars you forgot about doing it.”

At this point, Alastor’s irritation became more evident as he exclaimed, “Oh, come now, Husker! You know that I would never forget such a thing! Why I’d be honest and say that it’s been the only thing that’s been crossing my mind as of late!”

That loud proclamation would sound like a simple statement of fact to Alastor, but to Husk, it gave away what he suspected to be the severity of this dilemma that the bastard had gotten himself in. Alastor seemed to have caught on at the same time, and for once, he was rendered speechless.

“For fuck’s sake, how obsessed are you, huh? What’s so special about her that she ain’t like any other _skirt_ you’ve had?”

There was silence as Alastor only looked at him blankly - more like his gaze was still fixed on Husk’s face, but looking at nothing in particular, too lost in thoughts that began to cloud in his eyes.

“I… don’t know.”

All of a sudden, Husk was suddenly struck by something that was like a jolt running through him; a jolt of surprise that the Alastor Carlon - smug bastard extraordinaire - was actually admitting that he wasn't sure?

The shock to hear Alastor actually give in and say that in such despondent frustration actually made him take a step back, not quite at ease with seeing the usually-composed young man looking a little… out of sorts. The radio host’s conscience seemed to have returned, and he was now staring at him with wide frazzled eyes and a weak smile, too unstabilised in his thoughts to realise that he was starting moving his hands and running his mouth in exasperation.

“She’s an anomaly, Husker. She’s different. There’s something about her that’s doing things to me. Something! The way she holds herself? The way she has more bite than she lets on? The way she smiles? The damning way she smiles! Oh, I don’t know what, but I don’t like it!”

Even in such woefulness, his words were laced with underlying resentment, seething with so much detestation at what he was subjected to. And with that discontentment came the adamance of refusal - the unwantedness of accepting the fact that was oh so obvious.

“I am not capable of understanding such frivolities, thank you very much! Such a waste of time and energy. It does nothing for one’s well-being! Turns the best of men into the worst of idiots. Do you really think me so low as to subject myself to something as despicable as that?”

It was clear that Alastor would not acknowledge it - whether it was the truth or not, he would not accept it. He refused to think that he could be subjecting himself to such a useless notion of the heart. Stubborn he had always been and stubborn he would continue to be. He had all the reasons too - an unacceptance to weakness and more underlying reasons that were not necessary to be brought back to surface. His plight was his own to know, and enough to be seen by anyone that his reasons were justified.

Husk, however, merely shook his head.

“God, you’re probably the worst idiot there is.” 

* * *

Vaggie would have liked to stick around and wait, but Charlie’s gentle insistence gave way. So with a gentle hug and a bid goodnight, the girl left the room quietly, leaving her to her lonesome again to settle the thoughts that were still stirring.

Charlie rubbed her sleepy eyes as she straightened up her desk before leaving her study. Out in the living room, she could hear one of the many rainy nights that was still to come to New Orleans. The rain pitter-pattered rhythmically in its multitude as a low rumble of thunder resounded against the sound of the heavy wind blowing into the night. She walked up to a window and watched it pour, the many droplets falling against the light of the streetlamps that were blurry in the downpour with the chill from the glass making her pull her robe tighter against herself for warmth. 

Charlie sighed and her breath fogged up the cold glass. Watching it slowly dissipate, she absentmindedly brought a finger to gently rub it away in a circle, until the sight of Alastor’s house came clear.

She wondered what he must be doing now. Could he be sleeping? It would seem so since all the lights were off. If he was, she wondered if he must be resting easy with an absence of thoughts in his head. 

How nice it must be for Alastor to not have to be in secret. Charlie was almost envious at the fact that he did not have to hide anything about himself to anyone, not having to constantly be on guard, or watch his words, or be confused about his actions.

Okay, it might be giving him too much credit for the last part. Although, at this point, Charlie seemed to be no better. 

How was it that she found herself in such a conundrum that she ought to have better control of? Why was it that just the thought of Alastor was enough to have her swaying in her resolution to remain truthful to Vaggie? Vaggie, who had gone to bed with a smile on her face at an unwilling promise that caused her gut to sink right to the bottom, as much as it had at the thought that there was a possibility she had to force herself to properly never see Alastor ever again. 

This certainly did not help her fare any better from the situation she had that day. Once again, Charlie found herself remembering all that had happened between her and Alastor that afternoon - from the look of his face when he apologised, to the way his hands held hers to his warm chest, to how his smile was small and hopeful as he asked her to grant another chance. 

Now, here she was, absolutely torn and unknowing of whether to do except to lie and leave things hanging so much that she’s stuck. 

Charlie sighed, just as another yawn began to crack through. The weight in her mind was only adding to the heaviness in her eyelids. She was too sleepy to think coherently, so best not to think any more for the night.

As she left the window, the rain continued to fall outside, bringing with it a gentle thrum that could lull one into ease, if only it was working for her.

* * *

“Pardon?” It was so sharp cutting through the tense air like a knife cleanly stabbing through flesh. “I express my genuine troubles, and you dare to lambaste me in my face?”

Husk was not moved.

“Yes.”

Alastor blinked a few times, trying to determine if he was simply imagining things or if Husk actually just was not deterred by his infuriation. The other watched him go through his bout of confused muddlement and just heaved a sigh.

“Look, Al. No one’s stopping you from feeling anything for her except yourself. If anything, that’s probably the most human that any of us has seen you for so long.”

It felt really strange to be some sort of advising figure to the usually unprincipled Alastor. Husk wasn’t even sure why he even felt bothered to. Probably, it was something in the way the smiling man was now looking so lost and confused beneath that insincere smile that gave him an inclination to want to help. 

However, he could worry about Alastor all he wanted, but priority had to go for the bigger situation at hand - the safeguarding of everyone involved, including Alastor.

“It’s been going on for far too long. I’m telling you right now, Al. And you need to stop all of this bullshit.”

From staying silent for so long, Alastor finally reacted with a few blinks. His expression started to shift, becoming one that was either of confusion or of disbelief. 

“And what exactly do you mean by that, my friend?” he asked slowly and carefully.

Husk’s answer was neither slow nor careful, coming out all in one go with heated firmness. “Why the hell are you still so insistent on taking the dame’s life if you can’t even bring yourself to hurt her? And because of that; can’t you see how you’ve been fucking things up for yourself lately? You can’t even think straight until for some reason, you suddenly have the Big Apple on your trail? Whatever business you have with the gangster, if there’s even anything you have with him to begin with, you gotta stop this. For all our sakes, and if you know what’s good for that _noodle_ of yours.”

Whatever was uttered had been in the best intentions that Husk could have for this predicament, one that did have a good indication that the bartender - to some extent - was concerned about the radio host’s safety and well-being.

However, such a thing does not come easily to Alastor, who did not like the soft look that was uncharacteristic of Husk - it almost seemed that he was looking at him with pity. And if there is one thing he would absolutely loathe at this moment, it was to be thought of as such a pitiful thing. 

“Are you trying to imply that I’m losing myself?”

That tone of voice did not sound too happy, alerting Husk that he may have taken things the wrong way.

“What? No. I-”

Alastor did not let him finish, selfish in his want to stand his own ground.

“Well, I think that’s exactly what you mean. If you think that I cannot do it as I normally would any other, then you have another thing coming. I am more than capable of killing her - of spilling her blood and getting my fingers on that pale neck of hers and watching her turn blue while I watch the little spark of light in her eyes be snuffed out. And the Big Apple’s got another thing coming if he thinks he can get in my way.”

“...What?”

That simple question came with quiet puzzlement, yet it was so clear that it brought Alastor back to his senses to realise that he had Husk pressed up against the railings of the boardwalk. He must have not noticed that he was closing in on him as he spoke, and was unsure of what were the intentions of his hands that were clenched - to grab Husk from potentially falling over or to do much worse than pushing him in? 

But that didn’t matter. What mattered now was how Husk was staring at him with a suspicious frown, still reeling over the last sentence he had uttered.

Alastor realised that he had nearly given it away. 

Husk wanted to say something - anything to refute his stubbornness. But he was smart enough to know from the murderous glint in Alastor’s eyes that he had crossed enough boundaries with him for one night. Hell, it was a miracle that he managed to get this far without the man attempting to _blip_ him for his first slight towards his temperament. He wouldn’t want to take a lot of chances stupidly, and it seemed that nothing more that could be said would ever get through to Alastor. Thus, he kept silent.

His silence was what made Alastor content to leave him in one piece, immediately taking a few steps back to give him space. He looked shaky, still not quite calm that he had nearly let himself slip.

“I think I’ve had enough of this _jive_ for tonight, thank you very much,” he said icily, then turning to walk away from the scene.

“Alastor-”

At the call of his name, he spun around and brought a finger to jab the air in Husk’s direction. “You do well to keep out of things from now on, Husker. Do not speak to me of trivial matters unless I come to you with a job.”

The temptation to push that finger away and grab him by the collar to shake him up a little bit nearly had Husk losing his own composure, but one of them had to be the more reasonable one right now. 

“You’re messing with things you have no control of. That’s your whole _schtick_ , and now you’re gonna say ‘fuck it’ and toss it to the wind and end up getting your ass handed to you on a silver platter?!”

Alastor pursed his lips in disapproval and the overtly-extensive use of crass language, but being a sailor-mouth was the least of Husk’s concerns at the moment. 

“You’re biting off more than you can chew, and I’m not saying it in that sick cannibal-sense of yours. It’s about time you wipe that shit-eating grin of your face and fucking admit that you love her!”

That little outburst of frustration should have been enough reason for Alastor to finish him off there and then, but it was a good thing that he had enough respect for Husker to only have so much spite as to throw him a dirty sneer over his shoulder as he walked off again. He could feel the bartender’s eyes boring onto his back with intense wonderment as he left the conversation of denial and agitation behind.

Right now, going back home and being alone with his thoughts didn’t seem like the most ideal thing to do now. 

* * *

Cherri wasn’t around since she managed to nab herself a _john_ who was up for an _all-night trick_ . Not wanting to ruin her chances of making some _greens_ tonight, Angel had insisted that he’d be alright and that she can go ahead, and he’ll see her around the next few nights. He had a brief memory of her looking hesitant to leave him, and he guessed now he could see her reason why.

The rush had always been an exhilarating high that Angel always chased for more, even if it ended up fucking him up senseless.

His head felt like it was pounding like the bass of some _hot_ jazz, beating at the same pace that his heart was racing. It was cold but he was breaking out in sweat, soaking his shirt so much that the cheap material was sticking uncomfortably to his damp body. It didn’t help that he was soaked by the drizzle so he wasn’t too sure if he was shivering because of the rain or because he was starting to get feverish.

He’s had a few cigarettes to ride out the high, but that mix of nicotine with the dust wasn’t easy to keep in, especially with how much puking he’s been doing. The sour taste still lingered in his mouth that felt as fuzzy as cotton balls - as fuzzy as his mind as he tried to navigate his way through dark and wet pavements under foggy dim streetlights.

Angel did not really like this feeling of being lost and confused with no one to turn to for help. Well, not like he needed help anymore, but still to be left aimless was always a pretty antsy thing to go through during a high. Cherri would have been good help but she was off. 

The only other person he could think to trust was Molly. Oh, Molly. What would Molly think? Poor little doll. She wasn’t any stranger to drugs since she herself had a fair share of popping some happy pills back then, but she certainly hadn’t liked to witness any of her brothers in this state from going over the edge. 

Sweet Molly… How he missed her...

Ah, well. Molly ain’t around, off somewhere being married to some chump. At this point, the only other person he could think to go to was Charlie…

... _Fuck! Charlie!..._

Charlie was going to freak the fuck out if she were to see him like this again. Damn, he could imagine the sort of disappointment if she saw him like this. He remembered how it had hit her hard the first time, so could she bear to lay her eyes upon him in this state again?

Definitely not.

“...Fuck… Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…” Angel cursed under his breath as he realised through a doped-out mind that it would probably not be a good idea to not head back to the hotel just yet. 

His disdain grew when he saw that the only solution meant spending a night in this cold, damp and dirty alleyway that probably had some pissing done on the walls, but beggars couldn’t be choosers at the moment. Besides, Angel didn’t think he even had it in him to move a muscle. 

He was breathing too quickly that he was losing too much oxygen to do much else, and it tuckered him all out that he wasn’t able to do anything except stay slumped against the wet wall with his ass sitting on the filthy wet ground. But even staying still, Angel could feel everything around him going about in circles, disorientating him too much to even have a clear sense of where he could be.

The only thing that was clear at the moment was a sound that was coming closer. 

He could hear the crunching of footsteps that would have been soft in actuality but it sounded like thundering booms in his already-loud mind. His addled brain made Angel sluggishly look in the direction to see what it was.

A blob of a figure stood still at the mouth of the alleyway with the light of a nearby street lamp not doing much to show his features except to mask him in dark shadows. He had barely taken a few steps into the alleyway when he immediately halted at the sight of Angel against the wall. There was a jerkiness in the way he stopped that seemed akin to getting caught in the act, but Angel could not really tell for sure. The stranger did not move and he did not speak, but through his heightened senses, Angel could feel the weight of his gaze boring right on him. 

“What are you looking at?” he wanted to spat, but it all came out sounding like slurred gibberish instead. His tongue felt heavy and his mouth was pooling with saliva, some already starting to dribble out the sides of his mouth when he attempted to speak. 

He can’t really hear so well now, especially now that the man was taking slow steps nearing him until he was standing right in front of him. Angel didn’t really appreciate the way the stranger towered over him and looked down on him with what he could imagine was an unwanted expression of judgemental disgust. Had he been sober, he wouldn’t have hesitated to give him a good _kisser_ to the nose, but still, his body remained slack.

The stranger crouched down in front of him and their faces were level with each other. A ‘fight or flight’ instinct started to rise in Angel’s brain, but the heaviness in his body kept him dopey. He could only look blankly at the man’s blurry _mug_. Angel could still feel the intensity of the man’s stare on him, stronger now with how close they were. But try as he may, Angel’s eyes could only make up non-definitive features to guess the face. Dark hair? He can’t be too sure under the hat. Don’t know if he’s dark or if that’s just the night shrouding him. And did he have glasses on? 

God, he can’t focus with the sort of shit his brain was going through now. Each thought that became clearer became equivalent to a pounding headache that made him want to curl up into a ball and rock back-and-forth until the pain went away. He could feel his body trying to move to do just that, but his arms and legs felt like jelly and he was feeling pins-and-needles poking every inch of skin. Angel thought that he was moving quite extensively, but the reality was that he merely slumped to the side with his body angled awkwardly.

The whole time the dark stranger continued to keep watching him, taking in his every move almost like he was studying him. But as he stayed crouched, he did not do anything else. He only watched. Though, he suddenly made a certain sound before rising to full height in silence. Still, he continued to look down at Angel and kept on staring intently. 

Was he going to help him? Angel did not want to be helped. He only wanted to be left alone. He was about half a mind clear to tell him to fuck off out of here, but it wasn’t long until his eyes began to droop shut, the high ridding him out so much until he blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crawls out of hole* 
> 
> Sorry for the long wait on this chapter, my darlings! Simply put, real life has been a big bitch and it's been taking up so much of my time and energy that getting this chapter worded was a bit of a struggle. 
> 
> Nonethless! We're here, oh dear, looks like we've hit a few snags here! Everybody's here in a dilemma of sorts, and neither one seems to be looking to be lifted up soon (or will it?) This beautiful rainy night seems to be watering the seeds of darkness, and it won't be long before evil takes root? (Hmm...)
> 
> Like I've mentioned, real life has been pretty difficult for a bit now, but I'm still trying to make it through day by day and still get the words churning. I'm just really thankful for all of you on Twitter who's been entertaining and lovely to talk to as always. At least there's that silver lining for me <3
> 
> 1920s slang:  
> Coozie – Prostitute  
> Jingling – Addling  
> Jacks – Boys  
> Pro-skirts – Prostitutes  
> Move their dogs – Take a walk  
> Goon – Henchman  
> Spillin’ – Talkin’  
> Lucky deck – Pack of cigarettes  
> Wrong number – Not a good fellow  
> Bird – Funny fellow  
> Bim – Girl  
> Goofy – Crazy  
> Croaked – Kill  
> Drum – Speakeasy  
> Barneymugged – Had sex with  
> Dizzy with that dame – In love with her  
> Half seas over – Intoxicated  
> Skirt – Girl  
> Noodle - Head  
> Blip – Murder  
> Jive – Unpleasant talk  
> Schtick – Act  
> John – Customer of prostitutes  
> All-night trick – One-night stand  
> Greens – Money  
> Hot – Fast  
> Kisser – Punch  
> Mug – Face


	43. Melting Pot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Charlie had been in the midst of a dreamless sleep when an incessant ringing tore her out of slumber. She groaned in annoyance as her eyes cracked open to see the dull light of a muted sky fill her room. As she started to stir into consciousness, the ringing of the telephone from downstairs seemed to be getting louder and louder. 

“Oh, goodness…” she mumbled to herself as she lazily got out of bed and uncaringly put on her night robe, bemoaning the loss of a few more winks she could have gotten sleeping in. She was literally dragging her feet down the stairs as she made her way to the living room, where the _ameche_ ’s ringing was still going on without any sign of the caller deciding to hang up.

Charlie had to stifle a yawn as she picked up the receiver and brought it to her ear. “Hello?” she answered, doing her best to not sound sleepy or annoyed. But both of those feelings were gone in a snap when she heard Vaggie’s familiar voice on the other end sounding very urgent. 

**_“Charlie? I don’t know where Angel is. He’s not in the hotel and he hasn’t been back.”_ **

“Wait… What?” Charlie had to ask again in case she might have misheard in her state. “Angel’s not there?”

**_“Not at all. He wasn’t in his room when I got her a couple of hours ago, and he still hasn’t shown up!”_ **

Charlie cast a quick glance to the clock hanging on the wall nearby to see that it was about an hour to lunchtime, which definitely was unusual for Angel to not be there since he’s always usually back at the hotel around this time. She knew she probably shouldn’t worry - Angel is a grown man and he’s not actually confined to the hotel, so he had all the freedom to go out as and when he pleased. 

But for some reason, there was just something about hearing him not being there that did not sit right with her.

“Okay, okay. Just hang on tight there. See if he shows up. I’ll head on down, and if he doesn’t, we’ll go look for him.”

After receiving affirmation from Vaggie, Charlie knew that sleeping in was pretty much a lost cause at this point. The call was hung up and off she went to rush.

The shower was just a little more than a rinse and makeup was not a priority, and the whole time her mind was full of all the locations that Angel could possibly be. Could he be out working? No way, since it’s already day-time. Maybe he’s out for a meal? But with the free food he’s getting from the girls, highly doubt so. Out with friends? As far as Charlie knew, he didn’t have anyone else he could really consider a ‘friend’.

So where on Earth could he be?

The dreaded question twisted Charlie’s guts into knots with the unsettledness she had when she first received the news. Her thoughts kept her so occupied in her worry that she was only paying half of her attention to her movements that were frantic in her scramble to leave. She threw open the door, prepared to run down the walkway and probably all the way to the town if it wasn’t for a body that she had to collide hard into.

“Oh!”

Both she and the visitor were nearly thrown off-balance from the impact, and she might have taken a fall if not for a pair of hands immediately gripped onto her arms to balance the both of them, and Alastor looking at her with worry in his smile.

“Alastor?”

“Charlie. You’re going to need to head to the hospital now.”

* * *

Charlie always had the niggling thought at the back of her head that Angel was continuing with his antics, but her belief in him made her give him the benefit of the doubt. And it had seemed right to do so at first, which was why it really hit her hard to know that he was back in the hospital for an overdose.

While Vaggie was relieved to hear that Angel was found and would be making her way to the hospital immediately, Charlie could tell that she was furious from her stoicism at receiving the news. She wouldn’t know how to handle Vaggie once she would be here to view the situation herself, but she would settle that later. 

After _dropping the dime_ , Charlie returned the phone to the receptionist and made her way back up to the ward that Angel was currently bedded in. It was quiet in the room, save for distant rumblings of thunder in the downpour outside. By Angel’s bedside was Alastor and the doctor, who were in the middle of conversing about his condition when Charlie returned.

“How is he, doctor?” she asked worriedly.

“His vitals are currently still stabilising, though it might take some time before we can really determine anything. Let him rest for a bit more. I’ll check in on him again later.”

The doctor gave a nod to both of them before he departed. Charlie sank into the empty chair next to the bed, her gaze never once leaving Angel. Her motions were with gentle carefulness as she reached out and placed a hand atop his, feeling his skin that was cold and clammy to the touch. She had to restrain herself from gripping his hand too tight that it might jolt him awake. 

To say she was worried was probably an understatement. Her heart had been racing like crazy since Alastor showed up at her front door and all throughout the _hack_ ride to the hospital, and she swore she nearly burst into tears the minute she stepped into the ward and saw Angel in such a state. The doctor had advised that he be left alone to allow his body to recuperate from the dosage of PCP that was in his system. Only time would tell when exactly he’d be awake, but judging from the way his breaths were shallow and laboured, his slumber was not that of easy sleep. 

Charlie was thinking many things, but only one thing was clear in question - what must have happened to Angel for him to relapse this badly? From all the times that she’s seen him, he always looked alright. 

Or at least, as alright as Angel would show himself to be. 

It was then the guilt was starting to eat at her; guilt that she had been too preoccupied with the hotel’s development and other aspects of her life - somewhat no thanks to the man next to her - to really pay much more mind to what’s been going on with Angel. 

How could she have not been aware? Was she not supposed to run a place of rehabilitation with a mission to help those in need back on the right path? Was she not supposed to ensure that whoever stayed under the hotel’s roof would be provided with help and guidance as and when they would need? Was she not supposed to ensure that anyone under her care would be alright?

But if that was what she was supposed to do with her patrons, then what of friends? Dear Angel had been there for her when she was at her lowest. He had helped her and listened to her and been her shoulder to cry on despite his inhibitions. During her darkest period recently, he had been the only one she could really turn to. He had done so much for her, so how could Charlie not have done the same for him?

She knew that now probably was not the right time to start wallowing in her self-pity, but how she felt like such a failure! Both as a proprietress and as a friend. How dare she had the cheek to think that everything that’s been happening the past few weeks was all good and dandy and made her think that she was doing well. Clearly, with Angel comatose right now, it was a definitive reminder that she probably truly wasn’t, and it was honestly quite shattering.

Standing quietly beside her, Alastor watched the scene of her with a blank expression.

“Charlie?”

“Hmm?” she replied, not looking at him.

“Everything alright?”

When she did turn to him, her small smile did not reach her eyes as she nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just… really worried for him.”

It was a lie; she was exactly what Alastor had expected to happen when he found the _gunsel_ in the alleyway.

It really seemed like the world or whatever non-existent higher power that was controlling it was truly having a thrill in playing with him like this. All Alastor remembered was that he simply skulked into a random alleyway and cloak himself in darkness to prepare for another usual night to cool himself off from the unpleasant conversation with Husk. 

He had been so distracted in the moment of fuming and stewing over what had transpired from the _jive_ he had been from and was thus wholly unprepared to have the unfortunate mischance to encounter Angel Dust there at the side. How damning it was that out of all people that had to be randomly lying down in an alleyway he walked into, it had to be a friend of hers!

But once he had gotten over the shock, Angel’s current condition was made known then. It was a relief to Alastor, who thought it a good thing that Angel was too _doped-out_ to be in the right mind to see that it was him until he realised the very extent of how high he was at the moment. 

It had been quite morbidly fascinating to witness the effects of a drug intake - something much more unhinged than those _lit up like a Christmas tree_ . How unsettling to see the boisterous and cocky _rent boy_ he was acquainted with in such an unpleasant state. Alastor could never guess that one could look so incapacitated and thought it a miracle that he was still breathing despite looking like he was teetering on the border of Death.

Such a state made Alastor view him as an easy target to release his frustrations on, that’s for sure. With Mr Dust being completely _snowed_ out of his mind, he wouldn’t have been of much trouble for him to handle. It would save him the trouble of having to scout out for somebody and go through the hassle of a struggle. All he’d need to do was just take him to a much quieter and isolated place than a dirty alleyway, and it would all be done in no time.

Tempting, really. However, no. 

That sort of _pop_ wasn’t up his alley. It would feel sloppy and lazy of him, and there was no fun if the victim wasn’t struggling as they met their life’s end. And with all the pent-up frustration inside him, it would be such a pity to have such vigour be wasted on a mere _dope-fiend_.

So with no interest to do anything, he should have walked away right?

That’s right, he should have.

“...Alastor?”

Alastor hadn’t realised that he was drifting off into deep thought until Charlie’s call brought him back to reality. He was a little out-of-focus and that was definitely due to the fact that he hadn’t been able to catch a _bunk_ since first bringing Angel to the hospital; something that Charlie noticed.

“Are you alright?”

His response was slow before he merely gave a shrug. “Could be better, honestly.”

His usual cocky and slap-happy demeanour was absent in his half-hearted answer, which Charlie found to be quite strange. She thought to brush it off as exhaustion of having stayed the whole night with Angel, but the way his eyes mulled over deep thoughts was one of concern.

“... Did something happen? To you, I mean.”

Alastor shook his head slowly, all while his hand absentmindedly began to gently brush at his wrist. Charlie’s gaze flickered to that motion for a short second and resisted taking it in her hand, instead continuing to gaze at the faded shadows under his eyes. 

His daunted facade was a window into the conflict thundering within him about his deed. 

He should have walked away. 

But instead, Alastor had actually picked the fella off the ground and pack-strapped him all the way down the street until he could get a cab to bring him to the hospital. He waited as the doctors tried their best to revive him and was there to receive the news that he would be well. 

All those acts that he committed only brought the question; why had he helped Angel? This man was nothing to him; just some _palooka_ with a nasty tongue who’s too cocky for his own good. It did not matter to Alastor, who definitely had no interest that he had potentially helped save Angel’s life last night.

However, as much as it did not matter to him, he knew it would to Charlie.

Seeing the way Angel was slouched on the dirty ground in a slobbery catatonic state, he had wondered how Charlie would have reacted if she knew this was happening. He could imagine the way she would be fretting over her one and only patron all worried sick with probably some tears in her eyes, and that was ultimately what made him decide to play the good samaritan.

However, the doing of this good deed didn’t exactly leave Alastor feeling proud of himself. If anything, he was kind of a bit disturbed that he would do something for Charlie’s sake, especially when Angel wasn’t of any importance to her either. 

“You care for him an awful lot for someone who’s nothing to you.”

The comment was said with an air of nonchalance, and Alastor thought nothing wrong of it. On the other hand, Charlie was absolutely mortified at his proclamation to the point of sheer indignation.

“Of course, he’s something to me!” she exclaimed, very upset. “Angel is my friend, Alastor! I love him enough to care and worry about him!”

Charlie had accidentally said it loud enough to cause Angel to mumble something incoherent under his breath, but not enough to wake him up. She clamped her lips tight regretfully at nearly disturbing him, while Alastor only glared.

“You ought not to use that word so lightly.”

Alastor’s tone was grave, as though the very mention of that word was a sort of bad omen. Charlie could not tell what was about it struck such a bad chord in him, or what about it was making her heart twist and sink with nerves.

”Why do you seem afraid of it?”

The question slipped past her lips before Charlie could consider slapping her hand over her mouth to physically stop it. Instead, she froze instantly and did not dare turn to Alastor, who was already looking at her in a certain way.

“... I mean…” Charlie stammered as she struggled to find a way to continue her slip-up. “... Love isn’t a bad thing right? Even you would have known it...:”

“Well, of course, I do.”

The answer should not have hurt, because he’d already made it clear during their last conversation at the cafe that they were both adults and had relationships before even meeting each other. Rational and one Charlie should be understanding of, yet there was still a pinch to her that made her heartache a bit.

However, it seemed that Alastor had taken her question from a different context.

“I love my late mother with all my heart. Bless her soul, by the way. I love my job. I love a good cup of coffee, or even some nice liquor to warm myself up. A good book is something to love too. All of that is love, probably like how you would define your friendship with Mr Dust here.”

The answers almost sounded quite innocent, as if one was asking a child or someone who just had the meaning of the question fly over his head. Charlie had to take a moment to realise that he was being quite genuine about what he was saying as he gazed at Angel, which somehow made tension melt the slightest bit as she found it to be quite endearing.

However, legitimate answers as they were, it was not the one that Charlie was looking for. 

“But… Have you ever been ‘in love’ before?...”

Her question was barely a whisper, but Alastor had heard it loud and clear. And maybe he was not as clueless as Charlie had thought, from the way he stopped short and fell into a state of a hesitant contemplation.

How ridiculous that they have this conversation with Angel recovering in slumber just right in front of them, but any other time might always not be the best time to have this conversation at all. And in the silence in the room, his aversion only paved the way to more questions. 

“How do you define the concept of ‘love’, Charlie?”

A pause followed, in which Charlie blinked one, two, three times at him in surprise. Alastor’s gaze on her remained unwavering, waiting patiently for an answer from her. 

Her lips parted, but she was unable to form words. 

“I…” 

She thought she had an answer coming to the tip of her tongue, but nothing came up at all, and it left her at a loss. 

“...It’s hard to explain.”

Alastor chuckled at her dull answer, but it sounded despondent as he shook his head almost exasperatedly. “If it’s hard for you to explain, then what about me? How am I supposed to give an answer to that question when I’m not sure how to word it?”

“You don’t ‘word’ it,” Charlie insisted, taking her difficulty in explaining as a basis. “It just… happens. You feel it.”

Goodness, why did she have to say that sounding like some sort of whimsical young _chick_ who had her head stuck in the clouds at the thought of romance? This wasn’t the best way to put it, but how else could she? How does one explain ‘love’ if not through the sense of emotions?

Alas, Alastor shook his head. “I’m not familiar with the feeling either. At this point, it’s quite clear that it’s a foreign concept to me.”

The answer came insouciantly, so easily said as if there were no inhibitions to the thought. But again, it came out sounding much too easy to be said and did not cease the dubiety she was feeling towards the thought that Alastor had never once felt such a manner before.

But it couldn’t be. Everybody fell in love. Some even more times than others. Even Charlie had with Seviathan the last time; although it hadn’t lasted and turned bitter in the end, there was no doubt that it had definitely been love at some point. 

But Alastor… The thought that he never did feel such a thing seemed quite far-fetched, and she wasn’t sure if it was merely to appease her doubts or it was the legitimate truth. 

If only she knew what he was thinking when he said that. If only she knew the backstory as to why he seemed so nonchalant about such a thing. Maybe then it could explain why it seemed so difficult to get an answer out of him, especially with how he was now looking like the thought of it made him feel uncomfortable.

And yet, she still probed, “Not Mimzy? Or anyone else? Did you not love even one?”

Charlie didn’t want to pry but she felt it was something she had to ask for her own sake, even if the question came with a certain heaviness that made her so nervous to hold Alastor’s gaze that now had brows knitted into a frown. 

With a shake of his head, he sighed, “No. They had nothing that made me feel in such a manner.”

A sense of relief started to bloom as a part of her had been hoping for that answer, yet the more logical part told her that it couldn’t possibly be the case. 

“But you’ve been with women,” Charlie argued back. “ You‘ve dated them and … ‘done things’ with them.”

“Would only the joys of the flesh make up ‘love’ in entirety?” Alastor questioned with an inquisitive stare that was only met by an uncertain silence. “Because if it does, then ‘love’ must indeed be such a fleeting and useless thing if it holds no significance beyond that. Something I wouldn’t wish to waste time on.”

The haughtiness he held with his answer was something she found so typical of the proud man she knew, but his answer seemed _all wet_ to Charlie. 

Was that what he was trying to imply? That such emotion was considered a waste of time to him? Because if it was, did it mean that the night they spent together was viewed as a ‘waste of time’ to him as well?

“Then… what would constitute ‘love’ to you?” 

There might not have been a point in asking, but Charlie felt like she had to anyway. He broached the subject in a manner that did not do good to her aching heart, and she was not content with letting it hurt if she had no clarification of his meaning.

Alastor continued to look blank on the front, but in his mind, the question got his tired mind active flashbacks of the word being uttered by both Mimzy and Husk. 

He tried to push the thought down, but he just couldn’t. And it was ridiculous, really. For sure there was no way that he would ever be victim to such an absurd notion. He knew very well of how such a pathetic emotion made fools of even the best of men. It was useless, though the only advantage that he could see out of it was how it lured Charlie to him. 

Yet, with Charlie sitting right in front of him, he was starting to question; if he was meant to lure Charlie, then why did he feel such a pull from her as well? 

Gazing at her sweet face with those earnest eyes that showed just that little bit of yearning, seeing her that way made her just as painfully enticing as she had been to his thoughts when he was apart from her. He could deny as much as he would like, but there was that part of his conscience that was protesting against his better judgement.

What was this precious little ingénue doing to him to make him so?

“I don’t really know. And I don’t think I can care to find out.”

The tension fell hush in the silence to the room, nothing being sounded except for the steady fall of rain outside, the heavy breathing of the sleeping Angel, and Charlie's heart slowing down in the midst of her astonishment. 

“...What?”

No answer was said as a shift came over Alastor as agitation rose. He wanted to curse Charlie and _blow her down_ where she was. He did not care whatever the reason was for now, and neither did he care that he would have to do it in a whole building where he would not be provided with a _clean sneak_. 

Oh, how this precious little ingénue was tempting him so easy to go _off the track_ , and all for such a stupid emotion! 

So very stupid that all he could do was to tell her icily, “If it’s not obvious, Charlie, it’s because I absolutely loathe such things.”

His voice was quiet for sure, yet his words somehow rang about these walls that it broke the hushed silence as it trembled through Charlie. She could do nothing as she watched Alastor straighten his posture until it was too-straight, with shoulders backed with chest puffed out. His eyes, despite the tiredness that still lingered, were still void of any clear emotion but now too wide. As was his smile, now stretched until it crinkled the corner of his eyes and showed gritted teeth. 

To anyone else, he may look like the animated talkative individual that he’s always made himself to be. But to Charlie, he looked stiff and unnaturally anxious. 

Charlie tried to get words to come to her lips but nothing came, and her eyes were looking so lost as she searched his face for a sort of clarity. Alastor, however, was unwavering in his solid glare. 

“I trust that you’ll be able to manage things here.” He smoothed down the front of his coat and sharply turned his gaze away from her and towards the door. “If there is nothing else, I’ll be on my way.”

He did not wait for a single word from Charlie before he’s already leaving the room disappearing out of sight before she could even take a blink and begin to question just what the hell had happened. It felt like the temperature in the room had dropped from how cold Alastor suddenly was towards her, chilling her as much as what he had said. 

It took a few seconds of silence that echoed those words in her thought to make her decide that she couldn't just sit there and wallow in her thoughts. Charlie’s eyes trailed over Angel for a split second to make sure that he would be okay for just a little while before she hurriedly got out of her seat and made her way fast to the front of the hospital.

It was just her luck that Alastor was still there, not having any luck with flagging down a _ten-cent box_ in this heavy rain shower. His attention was elsewhere as he disgruntledly smoked a _gasper_ , unfocused to realise that the loud sound of rain was muting the fast clicking of her heels towards him. There was a shift in the air that made him turn his head to see Charlie coming in fast and angry. 

“Charlie? What-”

“You ‘loathe’ such things, huh? Well, your ‘loathing’ would probably explain your absolutely ridiculous behaviour for these past few weeks!”

“Pardon me?” She had said that too fast and abruptly, and Alastor barely managed to catch on to her words. 

“How could you say something like that?”

“Like what?” 

“Like… Like that! You’re being so strange and confusing, and it’s absolutely infuriating!”

Alastor frowned. “If you’re referring to that night, then-”

“I’m not just talking about that night,” Charlie interrupted him without a care. “I’m talking about a lot of things. Like that night I found you bleeding, or that time at the fortune teller’s. Your reactions were all so odd, but I said nothing of it because I didn’t want to _nail it down_ on you. And now you’re just downplaying everything like it never meant a single thing to you?”

The way she was articulating her words in such an aggressive manner was almost reminiscent of the time on her doorstep, but still as out-of-character from the softness that he knew of her. Alastor only stared, his thought process unable to comprehend anything else other than pure shock as she dumped everything on him. 

“Charlie, I understand that you must be overwhelmed.” His voice was too calm for her liking, and almost smug with his smile. “But please, don’t be mistaken…”

Oh no, the last thing she ever wanted was to hear any remnant of the word ‘mistake’ popping up in this already-taxing conversation. 

It was enough to push her even further over the edge, finally breaking the floodgates.

“Alastor. I am going to be upfront and make it clear that I had feelings for you. I liked you, and a lot at that. And after all that we did together, after letting you into everything about me, you broke my heart just leaving like that and avoiding me for all those weeks. I don’t know what wrong I did to you. I don’t know if this is all just a game of pulling heartstrings that you’re playing with me…”

Charlie’s words were strong, but her heart was not. She did not want to feel like she wanted to cry, but she did, and it hurt her enough to make her choke on her words. 

“...But whatever it is, why not you just come clean with what you’re doing to me, to save yourself the regret of ever sleeping with me?”

In that release was a head swimming with pain and regret, making Charlie dizzy and almost sick to the stomach to finally get that out. Her heart was struggling to maintain a steady beat to keep her composed, and all the blood that was rushing up to her head was making her face burn and heat the tears that were painfully stringing her eyes. Thunder boomed in the dark wet sky above them, as menacing and sullen as she was. 

But probably nothing more thunderous than Alastor, whose face was starting to shift - from confused and bewildered, and then to galled and angry.

“You think I regret it?”

Sharp as a needle and cold as ice, there was an absence of any calm as he threw his half-finished cigarette to the wet ground and started advancing onto her. Alastor’s approach was one that could be deemed as threatening, but Charlie stood her ground and stubbornly stayed in place until she was directly looking up at him. 

“You think I regret anything that I did with you?”

He asked that as if he was such an offensive question, which only puzzled Charlie more. “You certainly act like it,” she replied. “You think I wouldn’t know?”

Alastor’s smile - it was indeed quite creepy that he could still be smiling right now - tilted on one end into a disdainful smirk as he shook his head. “You don’t know anything, Charlie Magne. You don’t know the truth.”

It was amazing that she had enough not to give the slap that Alastor so very deserved. She knew better than to commit such a harsh action that could only make things worse. As much as it hurt her to speak, she had to settle for the sake of trying to get this conversation somewhere.

“If I recall, didn't someone tell me that I ‘didn’t deserve the truth’?” Charlie pointed out sharply. “So, pray tell, exactly how the hell am I supposed to know anything?”

“Because it’s not any of your business.” 

“Well, Mr Carlon, it is going to be my business if you’re just so easy in stringing me along the way you do.”

Alastor scoffed menacingly. “‘Easy’? Oh, Charlie… You don’t know what trouble you’ve put me through.”

It was with an instance that her anger started churning, burning her from within a heat that could be as hot as hellfire. Charlie was almost like a pot of water boiling too much that everything was starting to spill out of the confines of her composure, pressuring her to release the steam and let all Hell break loose.

“‘I’ put ‘you’ through?! You should talk! For you to leave me like that after you’ve played your wily game of charms and enticement! All that do-good act and stupid flirtations? All that just wasted for nothing! How much you’ve wasted my time with you! For me to grow stupid feelings and ending up starting to love-”

Charlie was expecting anything that could reflect his anger towards her - a raise of a voice, the gritting of teeth, or even his smile pulled back into a snarl. She was expecting him to cut her off and firmly argue his stand and come up with some bullshit to refute her argument. She was prepared for anything that would probably result in her possibly becoming a screaming mess of emotions. 

But not how he suddenly took her face in his hands and kept her locked by his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it isn't obvious, I'm a simp for people getting so angry that it ends up becoming too passionate to bear (insert Lenny face here) 
> 
> And can I just say that FINALLY! After 16 chapters, we've got a little intimacy going on in here. But with how emotionally-distraught both of them are in the moment, how exactly would this little kiss end up, and where would it lead them next?
> 
> This chapter was a bit of a long wait, and I blame that entirely on my internship and a soul-sucking supervisor who expects me to be available 24/7 on a computer and prepared to do edits within the span of 5 minutes (even on the freaking holidays!) Been a real emotionally-tiring week for me, but I'm just glad that I've managed to get this chapter and leave it off with an extra spicy finish ;)
> 
> And let's not forget a little shout-out to the darlings who have taken the time to create such beautiful fanart, so thank you Deya (@EltioLimon), Khajeel (@Khahjeel3), Radio.apple (@Radio_apple1) and Nancy (@Nancyplus100)!
> 
> So, my darlings! Where do you think this little contact of lips gonna lead to next? ;)
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Ameche – Telephone  
> Dropping the dime – Making the call  
> Hack - Taxi  
> Gunsel – Term for homosexual man  
> Jive – Unpleasant talk  
> Doped-out - High  
> Rent boy – Male prostitute  
> Lit up like a Christmas tree – Absolutely drunk  
> Snowed – Drugged  
> Pop – Kill  
> Dope-fiend – Drug addict  
> Bunk – Sleep  
> Chick – Girl  
> All wet – All wrong  
> Blow her down – Kill her  
> Off the track – Became insanely violent  
> Ten-cent box – Taxi  
> Gasper – Cigarette  
> Nail you down – Make you say something


	44. With Thoughts that Thunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

“Lucifer, old sport! Mind if I join you?”

Lucifer opened his eyes and looked up over the rims of his sunglasses to see Frederick Von Eldrich looking down at him expectantly with a smile, interrupting his quiet moment of sunbathing. He thought that the man’s frame must have been the one to block out the sunlight from his view, but he now realised that the skies were starting to turn a muted grey that signified the coming of rain. 

“Be my guest, but I don’t see why the host should even be asking,” Lucifer said welcomingly with a wave to the empty lounge chair beside him. “Gonna rain soon, huh?”

“Yessiree,” Frederick replied with a glance to the sky as he took a seat, pulling out a  _ hope chest _ from the back of his trousers. “Not anytime soon, but might wanna cut this garden party short.”

“ _ Rhatz _ . T’was just about to get quite the  _ cat’s pajamas _ .” Not really, considering it had been a pretty slow bore, but one must be polite to his host.

“Ah, you can thank Bethesda for that,” Frederick remarked with a gesture to his wife sitting at a wrought iron table and having a chat over iced tea with Lilith. “Though, if you ask me, a little more  _ hooch _ would have definitely done more than sodas and sweet waters.”

“And get this party into a  _ blow _ ? The  _ fraus  _ will have us  _ streeted _ ,” Lucifer laughed. “ _ Butt me _ , will you?”

Frederick took a puff of his newly-lit  _ ciggy  _ before holding a stick out for him to take. Both men smoked in companionable silence while the little party at the Von Eldrich’s holiday home went along around them. It was the conclusion to a gathering for a charitable organisation dedicated to empowering the rights of women, and now the attendees were simply enjoying themselves in leisure with beverages served in either crystal or porcelain and butlers going around offering a wide selection of hors d'oeuvres on silver trays they ferry on one hand. 

But it was mostly the ladies that were really partaking in the refreshments and chit-chatting, leaving their accompanying men to be sitting aside almost in boredom.

“So what have you been up to?” Frederick asked casually after a lull of quiet. “Busy as always, I would assume?”

“Oh, the usual.” Lucifer did not go into specifics of what ‘the usual’ meant, since the man was none the wiser and it was simply none of his business. “And I take it that business is booming?”

A nod with a proud grin as Frederick boisterously answered, “This economy is doing wonders for my assets, for sure! And my luck with the stocks is  _ hitting on all eight _ . Daresay, I might be able to pass it down to my son soon enough!”

“Looking for an early retirement already, my friend?” Lucifer mused as he gave a look akin to being impressed. “My, Seviathan must be ready to get his hands full.”

At the mention of his son, Frederick’s eyes trailed to where his children were. Seviathan and Helsa were linked by the arm as they mingled with the other daughters of the society, each holding a conversation on their own. 

“Ah, well. I don’t know what he has plans for now. All I know is that his mother’s hoping he’d get  _ insured  _ once he’s done with university.”

“Hmm?” Lucifer replied with mild interest. A look to Seviathan showed the boy seeming to be having an easy time conversing with the young women around, showing off a charming grin that befitted one who would think himself a  _ cake-eater _ . “Anyone in mind?” he asked politely, wondering which one of those pretty things would be the ‘lucky’ lady. 

Frederick was looking at the same scene and shrugged. “Pretty certain that Bethesda’s planning to set him up with a few of these little young things here. Gotta have a name as good as ours, of course. Probably a little bit of trial and error to go through since there doesn’t seem to be any more chance he could end up with yours, Lucifer. Still hoping though!”

The hand bringing the cigarette back to his lips paused midway, and Lucifer turned his head to him with a cock of a brow. 

“Oh?” 

The simple ‘oh’ was deadpan with Lucifer’s dispassionate expression, and Frederick realised all too late that he had run his mouth before properly thinking about bringing up the girl’s name to his father. Nevertheless, he continued the conversation casually. 

“Charlotte was his  _ blue serge _ for quite a while, after all, and a serious one at that,” he explained with a half-hearted chuckle. “Sevi honestly didn’t seem quite over how she up and left him all so sudden like that. Heck, we were almost close to asking you for her hand. ”

There did not seem to be any hint of resentment directed towards his daughter and her actions for breaking up with Frederick’s son, but Lucifer started feeling the slightest bit defensive regardless. 

“Charlie had her reasons and I will respect her decision. Although, I must admit that it is quite curious that you and your wife would still want to consider pairing her up with your boy.”

A genuine question of fatherly concern, but also because he did question the motives. If Lucifer were to be honest, he’d suspect the Von Eldrich boy to be a sort of  _ forty-niner _ , or at least that was what could be intended by his parents. As much as the Von Eldriches come from old money, the green of their family crest couldn’t be compared to what the Magnes had, so an arrangement of sorts would definitely bring stability that could tide over a few generations after. Also, Frederick said it himself that they’re hoping for ‘a name as good’ as theirs, and  _ getting to the middle aisle  _ with a Magne seemed to be something to definitely boast about in the family history books. 

“Oh, of course. I mean, I wouldn’t put anything against her. Youngsters, after all. They wanna do a little exploring in ‘finding themselves’ and what not before getting  _ manacled _ .” A pause to take a drag of his cigarette, and Frederick exhaled smoke thoughtfully. “Besides, I did hear from Helsa that she’s actually got herself a  _ goof  _ already? Some  _ hombre  _ she brought over for your birthday.”

Finally there was something brought up in conversation with the  _ bird  _ that was taking an interesting turn, albeit not one Lucifer could go into much depth talking about.

“You must be talking about Mr Alastor Carlon.”

Frederick snapped his fingers as he recognised the name. “That’s the one. Quite the popular fella, I hear. A star on the radio over at New Orleans.”

“So it seems,” Lucifer muttered. 

“Interesting character for sure. Though, I must say it’s pretty  _ fluky  _ that your girl would favour the company of the hoi polloi. Looks like working on that ‘rehabilitation hotel’ of hers must have-”

While Lucifer may not be favourable of Charlie’s mission with that silly hotel of hers, he would not appreciate anybody speaking ill of her because of that. This was why Frederick immediately held his tongue and clamped his mouth shut when he saw the unamused smile Lucifer was throwing with a steely gaze.

“So what if she does?” Lucifer’s tone was light, but there was just that tone underneath that gave enough of a message to dare Frederick to continue with whatever barb he had thought to throw regarding Charlie and her hotel. It was a good thing that smarts did not only apply to his way with business but also to his common sense, because he immediately redirected the subject. He’d do well to watch his words if he was hoping to make a daughter-in-law out of Charlie.

“Ah… not saying there’s anything wrong with that. She’s got vision, for sure. And I heard that she’s managed to nab Seviathan’s teacher into being a sponsor.” 

That certainly brought genuine surprise over Lucifer’s generally blank facade

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Frederick replied, before noticing his cluelessness. “You never heard?”

Not honestly, no. Ever since their little tiff in her house during his last visit to New Orleans, Charlie’s never actually spoken about that hotel of hers with him. In fact, now that he properly thought about it, Lucifer realised that they hadn’t actually properly spoken since his birthday. 

And that kind of made Lucifer worry just the slightest, because he wondered if this absence from his daughter might have anything to do with that particular  _ bo  _ of hers that she had the misfortune of being acquainted with. 

But worry as he would, Lucifer did not let the rash instinct of panic overwhelm him with rational thought put into place. He hadn’t received any calls from a frantic Vaggie, and perhaps Charlie must have spoken with Lilith and he simply was not aware of it. Besides, Frederick here just mentioned that she’d just recently gotten into agreement with that British person to have him on board as a sponsor, so he could foresee that she might have definitely been busy actually putting that nonsensical hotel of hers to the works - which, if he had to admit, was honestly impressive that she actually managed to succeed that sort of milestone. 

So, Lucifer was pretty sure that his precious Charlie was all alive and well back in New Orleans, and clearly the blasted smiling man hadn’t been playing any dirty tricks without his knowledge. Or else, he’d have to get Vox and Valentino to work extra for a bit. 

“Well, looks like I might have a lot of catching-up to do with my daughter the next time I’ll be able to hear from her,” Lucifer replied. “She’s sure to be busy and all with being a proprietress soon.” 

“A ‘proprietress’, eh? The Devil works hard, but the Magnes definitely work harder, it seems,” Frederick remarked all impressed. “ Seviathan could have definitely been a more suitable choice of suitor for a daughter of someone of your standard.”

Flattery would usually get nobody anywhere with Lucifer Magne, but he saw no point to internally promise any sort of harm to the man considering how insignificant the matter was. 

“Hmm… Perhaps so.” The nonchalant reply made Frederick’s perk up just the slightest bit at the inclination of a prospect, but that fell flat immediately when Lucifer carried on. “But! I wouldn’t put anything on it yet. I’ll leave Charlie to her own decisions and see what she ends up really wanting to do.”

“Even with the sort of  _ jobbie  _ she’d want to make your son-in-law?”

Lucifer did his best to hide the grimace he could feel building up with the continued expression of a blank indifferent smile. “Can’t quite say much about that Carlon fellow, though. He’s quite the funny fella. Might want to keep my eyes on him for a bit.”

A low whistle in a midst of exhaled smoke, and Frederick chuckled at the proclamation. “Heh. Looks like Sevi’s gotta watch out or it looks like he might have some competition with that friend of Charlotte’s.” 

If only there was actually some  _ giggle water  _ being served at this  _ flat  _ party, because Lucifer felt like he would need something strong to drown out that thought of Alastor Carlon and his daughter. It was a shame that the man wanted to play this sort of game and have the balls to use his daughter as a pawn, although Lucifer did have to admit that the anticipation of what could happen did somewhat tickle his funny bone.

“Ah, you know me, Fred. I have a preference for someone more… ‘entertaining’.”

_ ‘Entertaining’, indeed _ … he thought to himself with certain wickedness in his heart as the darkness in the clouds above started to roll in and bring the promise of a rainshower. But regardless of how entertaining it may be...

“Let’s just hope the  _ palooka  _ knows what games not to play with my lil’ darling sweet apple.”

* * *

As the rain poured all around New Orleans, many were too preoccupied in their rush for shelter to pay much mind to the couple in their embrace. 

And just like them, they paid no mind as everything else melted away into a simple backdrop noise as their focus became fixed on this one moment. But for Charlie, it was purely out of sheer shock.

The air of the pouring rain was cold to the skin, but not cold enough to cool down the fire that must have combusted within when Alastor kissed her. It was strange to feel that she was burning because, in her state of stillness, Charlie could feel that the adrenaline that had been pumping through her veins from her tirade just mere seconds ago suddenly stopped abruptly. Her heart too felt like it was skipping several beats as she froze with wide eyes at unexpectedly being entrapped in such a manner. 

All she could do was stare at Alastor. He did not look at her - it was probably a good thing that he didn’t because Charlie would even more not have a clue of what to do if his eyes were gazing into hers. As she stared, she realised that he looked so lost in his ministrations, as if he knew not of or did not want anything else to do except to keep locking lips with her. 

Charlie’s hands, which had been locked rigid at her sides, suddenly flew to plant itself on his chest with the intention of pushing him away and pulling herself away from what was going on. She wanted to pull away because this situation was absolutely wrong for it to end up coming to this, because she was supposed to be angry and upset at him since he hadn’t exactly been making things any better for her. How could he do this when she was stewing in the anger and resentment he made her have for him? 

But when her hands came to rest on his chest, Alastor’s fingers held onto her just the slightest bit tighter and she could feel herself being pulled the slightest bit closer. Her hands stilled and she could feel the hard pounding of his heart reverberating under her touch. 

The steady rhythm of his heart actually began to lull Charlie then, and as he kissed her more, those remembrances of pain, anger, and sadness started to fade away from focus and left her mind slowly blanking out to be seduced by the enchantment of him. So much so that she started to actually reciprocate the kiss. 

Her lips started to press against his softly and gently, enough for Alastor to gasp under his breath before continuing in the kiss with more earnesty. His lips were not innocent, fueled by a passion that burned so hot that Charlie could feel the heat started to seep into her and spread all throughout her senses. The warmth she felt in her soul ensnared her senses that she could think of nothing else except to grasp his face in her hands and kiss back just as vehemently as he did. Alastor’s breathing quickened as he deepened the kiss and so did hers as she did the same. Their breaths mingled and their hearts raced in unison to a  _ hot  _ rhythm that was in time with the fall of rain to the ground.

Gone was any thought in her head, now filled with nothing but the feel of his lips and how sweet it felt. It brought back the memory of their first time, but with no alcohol involved to cloud her conscience, she could properly experience it now. The rigidity in her body faded away as she melted into him, drunk on endorphins fuelled by the desire to touch him, to feel him, and to simply kiss him.

Charlie’s breath hitched when she felt Alastor moving a hand across her jawline and trailing to the back of her head, where his fingers twined with her blonde curls and pressed her more to him as if the closeness of their intimacy was not enough. It was like he never wanted this to end from the way he held on to her so tenderly but with an underlying need. She wondered what must be running through his mind to suddenly incur this as her hands began to trail up his chest, feeling him shuddering under her motion before she rested her palms on his broad shoulders, gripping tight to hold herself to him as he did her. 

There was something about sharing this kiss in the rain that brought a tenderness which softened Charlie’s heart. It was quite ironic how the weather could be a sort of symbolism of the storminess that raged on between them these past few weeks, yet here and now felt like the most stable she had felt in weeks. Somewhere deep inside her made her feel how much she had actually missed this sensation with an inkling of what she had felt the first time, but it didn’t seem enough. Selfish and ridiculous as it may seem, she felt like she wanted more and for this moment to never end. 

But yet, that yearning came to an end with a shift in their stances.

A gasp, and suddenly her lips were torn away from his just as Alastor was pushing her to walk backwards. He had moved too quickly for her to comprehend things until her back was pressed up against the wall with his front close onto hers. 

The feeling of suddenly being trapped between the wall and his body snapped Charlie out of her reverie and awakened a new state of vulnerability that bordered on fright for her. Suddenly he was too close for her comfort and she felt like she could not catch a breath properly, and it immediately prompted her to come back to her senses just enough to properly press her hands again on his chest to properly push him this time.

But like just now, she stilled - not because of what he did, but because she heard a loud and disgusted ‘tch’.

“Oh, for God’s sake…” muttered an elderly couple who irritatedly shook off rainwater from their umbrella and eyed the both of them in disdain as they walked past them into the hospital.

The fact that they were still out in public was realised as Charlie could feel her face burning up at the mortifying fact that they were basically  _ necking  _ out in the open. Alastor must have realised that quicker than she had, which would be a reasonable explanation for his actions and the position they were in now. He too was hanging his head forward towards the wall to keep his face from view as his frame majorly hid Charlie.

In her embarrassment, her hands that had been prepared to push Alastor away were now gripping tight onto the lapels of his coat as she shyly hid her face in the crook of his neck. But in her bid of not wanting her face to be seen, she hadn’t thought about her actions carefully until she could feel the warmth of his skin on hers, inhaling his scent that was masculine and musk and him.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down a nervous lump in his throat, and Charlie pulled away immediately to find that Alastor was already looking at her. In the small space that their faces were apart, she could hear the heaviness of his hot breaths and probably even the loud beating of his heart - she could not tell if that could be hers, though. This close, her eyes trailed up first to his swollen lips, and then to his flushed cheeks, and then to his eyes.

Oh… His eyes.

Intense and piercing as they bore into hers, and it felt like he was staring at the very core of her soul. She felt so naked in his hard gaze that it made her want to run away and hide, but hypnotic he was that she could only stay still and continued to gaze back. 

It was the longer she gazed back in her stillness that she saw truly how clouded his eyes were with a certain storminess in its depth to show how troubled he looked. 

In the space of that moment, Alastor lifted a hand to her face to press the tips gently against her soft cheek. Charlie thought that he might attempt to cup her cheek, and if he was, she probably would not have hesitated to lean into his palm if only to feel more of the touch of his skin on hers. However, his fingers brushed against her blushing skin with a touch that was as light as a feather, as if careful because she was so fragile.

But if there was anything that was fragile, it was the way he looked at her - his smile small, and his eyes now a lethal softness that looked even more so troubled and anguished.

“...You don’t know what you do to me, Charlie Magne…”

The words barely came out as a whisper, sounding so heavy as if Alastor had to force himself to say it. It shook her from within, because why did those words that sounded so sweet also sound so very bodeful.

Charlie knew she should say something and ask him what he meant by that. But the spur of the moment had rendered her speechless with an inability to have words come to her tongue, so she could only remain to stare at him in her perturbation. She wished she had said anything. Maybe it could have stopped the way Alastor suddenly let her go and walked off immediately into the rain. Looked like he was simply going to bear with trekking through this downpour instead of continuing to wait for a cab.

Left where she was, Charlie stayed rooted to the spot and could only watch as his drenched form retreated off into the distance until he was all but a blur that disappeared amongst the steady fall of rain. She waited for him to turn around to look back at her over his shoulder or if she would make haste in catching up to him for whatever reason. Alas, neither one happened, and she didn’t know how long she was standing there looking off into the distance that Alastor left in, not even realising a single tear that streamed down her cheek.

“Charlie?”

It was as if her consciousness had ethereally followed Alastor and was now slammed back into her body upon the touch of a hand to her shoulder. She snapped her head around a bit too sharp, causing Vaggie to flinch back just the slightest with eyes widening in deeper concern.

“Vaggie?” Charlie was still trying to process how Vaggie had suddenly shown up by her side when she hadn’t even been around the area a few seconds ago, but catching sight of a cab having driven off from where they were told that Vaggie had just shown up. 

But then the confusion turned to panic, and Charlie was starting to feel her heart hammering frighteningly hard against her chest because what if Vaggie had just seen what had happened? Did she Alastor? Did she see the way he held her face in his hands? Did she see the kiss?!

“What are you doing out here?” her best friend questioned fretfully as she gripped her arms gently. “It’s raining, and you’re all cold.”

Of course, Vaggie would think it strange as to why Charlie was standing out in the open where the rain was pouring heavily and getting her shoes and the hem of her skirt wet, and she was none the wiser of the relief Charlie secretly felt that she had evaded a  _ very  _ close call. She was so glad that Alastor had vamoosed before Vaggie had arrived because Heaven knows what would happen if she had caught them in their… moment. 

However, there was no capacity in her thought processes to be eased too much in that relief because her mind still seemed to be following after Alastor.

“I… I was waiting for you.” The lie came out soft and meek, coupled with Charlie hugging herself as she hung her head, which only now she realised there were tears streaming down her cheeks. 

Vaggie reached out to tenderly wipe her tears away. “It’s alright... Angel will be fine... I’m here with you now... It’s okay... Everything will be okay.” 

She mistook her shakiness from having been worried about Angel, but Charlie did not contest and allowed herself to be pulled into a hug. 

That’s when the tears fell more as she shuddered, not knowing if it’s from the fright of nearly recklessly getting herself into a tight spot or because she was suddenly filled with sadness. And as comforting as this hug was supposed to be, it paled in comparison to the way she felt in Alastor’s arms, and just like that she started to yearn.

Somehow, that terrified and saddened her even more.

* * *

The speakeasy was quiet tonight in light of the pouring rain outside. There were still a few scatterings of people looking to warm themselves up with some good liquor on a cold night, but not enough to completely fill up the house or fill the joint with a certain loudness that could have muffled out the loud thoughts pounding in his head.

Husk had already drunk enough to keep him tipsy for the time being, and there weren't enough people around to join in for a game of cards. His mind was distracted with heavy thoughts he couldn’t quite comprehend but he was bored and with itchy fingers, so he kept his hands busy with mindlessly cleaning glasses that were already clean enough, thinking about something yet nothing in particular. 

“I’m worried about him too.”

Looking up from the glass he was cleaning, Husk turned to the doll that had suddenly appeared perched on a barstool with elbows planted on the tabletop and her hands cradling her thoughtful face. “What?” he asked gruffly without looking, even if he already knew who Niffty was talking about before she even said his name.

“Mister Al.”

Now he suddenly remembered what exactly he had been thinking about, but Husk simply hummed. “What makes you think I’m worried about him?”

Nifty tilted her head with a frown on her face. “You left the speakeasy last night, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t to  _ go see a man about a dog _ when you’ve got the bar here.”

Husk did not reply to the question, which gave the indication that Niffty was right. But she did not prod on what she already knew, and simply sighed. 

“Mister Al’s been really all  _ left _ . It’s not like him, Husky.”

“Sure as Hell isn’t,” Husk muttered grimly as his lips pursed in irritation at the memory of their conversation last night - something he wasn’t willing to divulge to Niffty out of pure disinclination. “Bastard’s been  _ taking more wooden nickels  _ than I have  _ dead soldiers  _ lying around.” 

“It’s all because of that Charlie girl, isn’t it?” 

His hand did not pause in wiping the glasses, but the thoughts in his head came to a still as he started to focus on recalling that particular topic when it had been brought up Husk thought of the last look of Alastor just before he left the scene of the conversation - anger that was laced with hesitation and denial.

Too into his contemplation that Husk did not respond to Niffty’s question, leaving her to stew in her own thoughts of worry for the unconventional ‘employer’ which was coincidentally shared with him. “I really wonder how Mister Al’s doing,” she wondered to herself, bringing Husk back into focus to still give a standoffish response.

“You ought not to worry so much about him. He said to me that he can handle himself just well on his own, so let him.”

Husk may be the type who could easily brush things off without much conundrum, but it wasn’t as easy for Niffty, who carefully said, “I don’t know, Husk… I just feel like something bad is gonna happen.”

There was something about the way she said it in her almost-squeaky voice that somehow struck Husk as being sort of ominous. He looked at the girl and saw that she looked the most disheartened and troubled than he'd ever seen her before, almost looking frightened at what was to come.

With a sigh, Husk stopped cleaning the glasses and threw the cleaning rag aside to bring out two tumblers to place them right in front of Niffty. She only watched curiously as he filled them each with a couple of ice cubes and poured out an equal amount of whiskey before pushing one towards the girl’s hands while taking the other one to a raise. He knew she tended to prefer more sweeter mixes, but her state of melancholic thought called for something much stronger in his opinion, and none would be suitable than a straight whiskey on the rocks. 

“Drown out that feeling with a little drink, eh? It works for me.”

Nifty thoughtfully considered him for a moment, before taking the tumbler in her tiny hands and gently clinking it with Husk’s. They both proceeded to drink; Husk downing his in gulps and Niffty in considerable sips as she winced from the strong ethanolic taste that coated her entire mouth in a fiery oakiness. She was only half-way through when he started pouring himself a second helping.

“What are we going to do?” Niffty questioned quietly, not tipsy enough to let the thought go just yet.

“About him? Nothing, I’ll say. Whatever shit he’s got himself involved; it’s his problem.”

“But what if something bad does happen?”

Again with that feeling of ill-omen which didn’t sit too well with Husk at the thought of Alastor, but he wasn’t one to want to dwell too much into things that he had no control of. 

“If it ain’t something that’s gonna get us  _ in stir  _ to the  _ Big House _ , or even worse, we do what we always do and wait for him.” A pause to take a gulp of his drink before ending his sentence on a heavy note. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t keep at getting himself in more  _ hot water _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the rain comes troubling thoughts, and it looks like the downpours not gonna wash it away from their minds anytime soon.
> 
> Von Eldrich brings up a very interesting tidbit and Lucifer's not too keen on handling another palooka with one already getting tangled up with his own precious sweet apple. But looks like said palooka's facing a storm within himself, which can only be shared with Charlie who clearly has no clue what to make of what transpired. 
> 
> Like Husk and Niffty, we can only hope that he won't be getting into any more hot waters anytime soon (heh)
> 
> This chapter's a real storm (no pun intended!) and GOSH Mr. Carlon, what will you do now? 
> 
> I know what I will do, dear readers! Thank all of you for the LOVELY AWESOME BIRTHDAY that I had! Thank you to everyone who's dropped by my Twitter to take a few seconds of their time to wish me a lovely happy birthday! It was so thoughtful of everyone and I literally have not had such a wholesome birthday as this. I want to give a special shout-out to my dearest Frumpy (@frumpy_furby) for actually having a package sent all the way from Poland to Singapore with the most beautiful portrait of me that is as sweet as the Krowki she sent! (IT'S NEARLY ALL GONE AND I AM BIG SAD). I'd also like to thank Astria (@astriacreations) for being a lovely darling to have me drawn amidst my favourite flowers~ (non-slick mission to find out what they were aside XD)
> 
> And besides that, I'd also like to thank the absolutely gorgeous fanart I've received OF THE GLORIOUS KISS. Let's give a shout-out to these darlings Deya (@DeyaMela), Elcutaryie (@elcutrayie), Em Fleur (@AriesFleurArt) and Khajeel (@khajeel3) for drawing our lovely Charlie alongside Charlotte (The Taxidermist) and Princess Charlotte (The Red Stag's Graveyard), which thank you Mama Freya (@wifeofthesoules) for drawing up more Act 3 Alastor shenanigans!
> 
> Well, dear readers, place your bets - is Alastor not gonna get into further trouble in the next chapter? (I've placed mine!)
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Hope chest – Pack of cigarettes  
> Rhatz – Darn  
> Cat’s Pajamas – Really good  
> Hooch – Liquor  
> Blow – Wild Party  
> Fraus – Wives  
> Streeted – Thrown out of a party  
> Butt me – Give me a cigarette  
> Ciggy – Cigarette  
> Hitting on all eight – Doing very well  
> Insured – Engaged  
> Cake-eater – Ladies’ man  
> Blue serge – Sweetheart  
> Forty-niner – A man prospecting for a rich wife  
> Getting to the middle aisle – Getting married  
> Manacled – Engaged  
> Goof – Boyfriend  
> Hombre - Man  
> Bird – Man  
> Fluky – Odd  
> Bo – Friend  
> Jobbie – Working-class Man  
> Giggle water – Liquor  
> Flat – Boring  
> Palooka – Foolish man  
> Hot - Fast  
> Necking - Making out  
> Go see a man about a dog – Go out and buy liquor  
> Left – Odd  
> Taking more wooden nickels – Doing something stupid  
> Dead soldiers - Empty beer bottles  
> In stir – Arrested  
> Big House – Jail  
> Hot water - Trouble


	45. No Clarity in Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Degrading language, drug usage and minor sexual acts

It was another cold rainy night, but the pimp was kept all warm in his coat of furs and being intimately flanked by a couple of babes - pretty things with cropped black hair and strawberry-blonde tresses - as he reclined against the couch with his feet up on the coffee table. A cigarette dangled from his lips, a puff exhaled every few seconds or so as he smoked in unison with his disgruntled guest.

“So he told you to just stay here... for?”

“I have no fucking clue,” Vox grumbled in between inhales of his own cigarette. “All cryptic-like and shit as always. Keeping us all on our toes for no goddamn reason.” 

Tonight had been just a simple get-together between the two friends for drinking and a little bit of a _bull-session_ . At least, it was supposed to be until Vox had a little too much _jag juice_ and started going off the rails into a whole bitching fest about some frustrations he had as of late - in particular concerning their boss and his new ‘target’. Being the good friend he was, Valentino was content to sit back and listen to him vent out however much he wanted.

Vox’s empty lowball glass was refilled by Val’s light-haired arm-candy so that he could shoot it back immediately in a few hard gulps. “Don’t see why he’s making me waste time for some fuckin’ radio _jobbie_ with a smug grin plastered on his _mug_. Creepy fucker.”

Vox always got pissier the more he drank and more so now with his new animosity towards said radio _jobbie_ , which Valentino couldn’t help but chuckle in amusement. “ _Pipe down_ , Voxy. The fella barely even did a thing to ya.”

“Oh, sure! Like he ‘barely’ ran his mouth at me the first time,” Vox pointed out sarcastically with an irritated wave of his hand. “And as if that ain’t enough, now I gotta be stuck in some hick city for him?”

“Hey, you watch your tongue. Piss on your own home, why don’cha?”

But Vox was far too _sloshed_ and angry to be respectful. “At least San Francisco wouldn’t be wasting my bloody time. What’s the whole point of staying here if I can’t even do anything to the guy?” he spat before taking a drag of his gasper and gave an irate exhale of smoke.

“That Alastor Carlon, though. A mystery of a man right there.” The question was brought up simply out of curiosity about their boss’ taking to the man in question, much to Vox’s displeasure in his grimace. “Shows up out of nowhere at his birthday, and the next thing you know, he’s nearly _chilling off_ some _bim_ in one of his _joints_ . And here I thought he’s just some _flat_ radio host!”

An enigma indeed, that Alastor Carlon was. But it didn’t do the trick in enticing Vox out of his disdain for him. “He’s just another cryptic little shit, that one. Smiling all the damn fucking time. Won’t be surprised if he’s actually a few screws loose.”

“ _And how_ on that one,” Val agreed. “I have to give it to him, though - he’s got a huge pair of nuts to play hard-to-get with the Apple. I’m honestly surprised that the boss sure is letting some _chump_ who wants none of this bullshit to play at it for this long.”

Vox hummed at the point that had been exactly the same argument that he himself had given during his last phone call with Lucifer. The reminder was what made him swirl what was left in his glass and stew in thought over the answer that he remembered being given to him. 

“Luci says he’s afraid.”

“Afraid?” Val asked with a curious brow quirk. “Of what?”

“Hell if I know,” Vox answered with a shrug and another swig. “He doesn’t want us to touch him or go lookin’ for him. All the big man said is that he wants Alastor Carlon to be walking to him on his own two feet, and God knows when that’ll be!”

A scoff as he put out his finished cigarette onto the ashtray held up to him by the strawberry-blonde. “One thing’s for sure, though,” Vox added on thoughtfully, “the old bastard knows more about Alastor Carlon than he lets on.”

That would definitely seem so. If it were the case, then Mr. Carlon must be as good an actor as he was a talker on the radio if he too was on the same page with Lucifer Magne and did not let on more than what he would know. 

Even if they were considered the Big Apple’s most trusted and reliable associates, it would seem that his business with Alastor was not theirs to even be in the know about, and they could only wonder why. ‘Twas safe to say that it did well in having Vox and Valentino be itching with curiosity.

However, the time for pondering was interrupted when suddenly there was a knock on the door. 

“The fuck is it?” Valentino yelled out before the door then opened quietly as one of his employees skulked in.

Cherri was not too keen on seeing how crowded the room was but sucked it up and kept a straight face as she handed over an amount of _kale_ to Val’s already-waiting hand. An awkward silence ensued as the pimp leaned back in his seat and started counting the bills while his companions fondled him every so often, and his guest continued to drink himself silly. 

Staying silent where she was, Cherri stood with arms crossed and toes curling in her heels impatiently. It had been a rough night of working out in the unforgiving rain that showered upon New Orleans and now wanted nothing more than to finally be done for the night once he finished counting the _clams_ she had made. 

Of course, this was Valentino and he would definitely not be letting her off with a _jive_ first. 

“This ain’t a pretty size of _mazuma_ ,” he remarked in disapproval as he waved the stack in his hand before dumping it onto the coffee table. “How absolutely pathetic.”

Cherri watched with a pinch of annoyance at seeing the result of her hard work splayed all over at his feet so uncaringly. Her patience was already thin when she entered the room, and thinner it became as she forced herself to answer blankly, “I’ve walked all over New Orleans in a downpour and I scored a few wet _johns_. I’d say that’s better than expected.”

“Still ain’t _boocoos_ in my book,” Val remarked and tutted patronisingly. “Jesus, what the fuck do I pay you sluts for? You’re lucky I ain’t in a mood to waste another one of my prized crystals on you like I did Angel.”

It was a good thing that Cherri’s arms were still crossed so that he couldn’t see how white her knuckles were turning from clenching her hands into fists really hard. The need to spat a good insult or two ignited with peevishness, but was held back by gritted teeth that were hidden under pursed downturned lips - the only indication she had of her displeasure at what was being said about her friend. 

But Valentino paid no mind, instead changing the topic to ask, “Speaking of which; where is Angel?”

It was Vox, quietly minding his own business with his drink, who realised a sudden shift in Cherri, whose glare in her eyes suddenly softened to one of concerned worry at the mention of that name.

“Well?” Valentino prompted impatiently for her answer.

“I haven’t seen him either,” Cherri answered quietly. A question was asked in a slip of her tongue with urgency regarding her best friend. “He didn’t show up tonight?”

As expected, it was pointedly ignored by Valentino who saw no need to answer her concern. His noirette held up an ashtray for him to tap his _gasper_ ash into, making Cherri both peeved and worried more. 

“Well, if you see him, tell him I ain’t fucking happy that he’s playin’ hooky when he’s supposed to be workin’. In the meanwhile; you’ll work extra on his behalf tonight then.”

Like a snap, the worry for Angel immediately shifted into anger towards Val for suddenly deciding to make her work extra hours when she was just about to be done and wanted nothing more than to shoot some up her nose and pass out in her bed at the _can house_. She was cold and wet and she was exhausted and she did not want to stand out there anymore to keep working, especially now that more important things like searching for Angel could be done. 

“Is there a problem, Cherri baby?”

Valentino asked that question with his eyes narrowingly dangerously, as if he was daring her to speak out of turn and try to even protest. The threat was obvious in his sharp tone, pricking Cherri’s nerves enough to be extremely wary of not letting her displeasure obvious.

It sucked that now he had an audience to see her squirm under his deadly gaze - Vox only stared and waited in anticipation, while his little arm-candies too watched her with mischievous glints in their sultry eyes and taunting smiles.

It was the intensity of all their stares that weighed down heavily on Cherri to pitifully reply, “...No, Val.”

Val hummed, pleased with the submission. “Good. Now get your ass out my office and get to work.”

Valentino waved her off, and soon his attentions were occupied as he fondled the ass of the strawberry blonde while ruffling the black hair of the other, and both girls giggled as they began peppering his face with kisses. Vox continued looking at Cherri quietly, watching her grimace in disgust at the sight and throwing a dirty sneer that went unnoticed by all except for him. Only when she realised his eyes on her did she quickly look away as she turned on her heels back to the door, running away from any more potential trouble as she left the room.

Out of the brothel, Cherri made her way out onto the dark and wet streets of Storyville with the drizzle slowly drenching her like it did not a moment too long ago. The whole walk she was muttering curses to her herself while her fists still shook slightly in her annoyance. 

It wasn’t long until she felt the need to vent out her frustration and headed under a nearby awning of a closed store to get out of the stupid rain. No one was around to see her impatiently pulling out her trusty vial. 

There wasn’t much of it left but there was just enough to be needed, and her state of agitation left no care to draw out a clean line as she sprinkled it onto her palm and snorted it up immediately. She cursed out loud as she felt the stinging iciness of the powder hit the back of her nose, groaning in both discomfort and relief as blood started rushing through her veins and speeding up her heartbeat. She gave it a few seconds and soon enough the adrenaline started to bring a pseudo calming effect that dulled out her irritation at her damning pimp. 

Standing slump against the wall, Cherri lazily put a cigarette to her lips and flicked her lighter to life, giving no two shits that the raindrops the wind carried was getting it wet and making it soggy. A flame was ignited and she burnt the end of her _ciggy_ with the first pull of nicotine, further enhancing her slow-descending state. Her consciousness started to come to a slow pace which contradicted with the way her heart raced as the substances pumped through her veins, the steady thrum of rainfall dulled her senses further.

In her numbness, Cherri’s thoughts drifted back to the previous night when she had last seen Angel in that corner of some street that she had forgotten which. She couldn’t remember all the details but she could recall that he had taken line after line of _nose candy_ \- the reason why she had so little left at the moment.

He had been fine at first but as the night wore on, he had started to look very worse for wear that Cherri thought that he might potentially drop dead. It had worried her so much that when a customer had chanced her way, she knew that she couldn’t just leave Angel where he was. A _ménage à trois_ had been up for offers at a cheap price in a bid for Angel to not be left alone and be short on change. Tough luck, because the customer insisted that he ain’t no _gunsel_ and wasn’t interested in something disgusting like fucking a _nance_.

Cherri wanted to put up a fight as much as she had expected Angel to be a sort of snarky bitch to the insult, but he was too high out of his mind to comprehend the right barb to shoot. Darling as he was, he told her to head on first and not to worry because he’ll handle himself for the night.

She wondered if he managed to handle himself well and her high began to feel disturbed when she wondered if he was safe right now.

Too lost in her thoughts that Cherri had nearly forgotten that she was supposed to keep working, reminded only when she suddenly heard the sound of footsteps approaching her and saw the silhouette of a man came into view amidst the blurry drizzling backdrop. 

“Hey there, handsome,” she called out. “Lookin’ for a good time?”

The man stopped in his tracks and looked at Cherri, who leaned suggestively against the wall with her frame twisted slightly to show the prominent curves of her _chassis_. A tempting smile played on her lips as she gave him an up-down suggestively.

His stance was tall when he walked, but he had been hunched at the neck like he was looking down at where his feet were going. His face was not really illuminated by the dim lights of the lamps lining the streets, but she could make out that the stranger couldn’t be more than a couple years older than she was. Brown hair that was not covered by his hat stuck damply to his forehead, tickling the edges of eyebrows that were furrowed in consideration over eyes that gazed at her hard through his _cheaters_. 

“... Probably.”

A little hesitance there was heard clearly. Probably a first-timer, she realised. Something she could settle with first since there was still somewhat of an indication of interest for her services.

“Well, Cherri’s got you covered, honey,” Cherri replied with as sweet of a voice as possible. She chucked aside her cigarette to the ground and made her way towards him - her walk was slow as if it was a sexy gait, but it was more because she couldn’t trust herself in heels on a slippery wet pavement being as _blotto-_ ed as she was. 

He didn’t seem to realise that she was blatted but still she kept the facade of sobriety up as she got beside him and wrapped her hand around his arm. It was in the focus of the pretence that she realised that he was smiling, even when he seemed to stiffen under her touch. It was a strange reaction, coupled with the fact that his smile was not the smile of one that was happy to be ‘getting some’ tonight, but one that was akin to the hesitation that had laced his voice and was now lingering in his eyes as he eyed her through his bifocals. 

Hesitant or not, the man did not say or do anything to act on his uncertainty.

“Lead the way,” Cherri told him kindly while half-expecting the hesitation to continue, but he started to walk and she followed in his stead.

The rain had been just a mere drizzle thus far, but now it looked like it might now end up becoming heavier with the way the drops were falling. It was just a good thing that they made it in time to where he had intended to go. It was a pretty cosy nook somewhere on the other side of New Orleans - one that promised a comfortable suburban life that seemed quite foreign to Cherri. The houses that lined up the street were all dark as its occupants had gone and tucked themselves into bed to retire for the night, so nobody paid mind to the man bringing a _sales lady_ home.

The man was silent during the whole walk here, and his quietude now mingled with that within his house. With only the faded noise of rainfall outside in the background, the silence seemed to ring in Cherri’s ears as she heard nothing else except for the rustling of his hat and coat and his breathing that sounded quite heavy in the stillness. 

“Take a seat,” the _john_ said. “I’ll get us something to… warm up.”

He headed off elsewhere into the house without turning on the lights, leaving Cherri to linger around in the foyer for a moment before navigating her way in the dark to what must be his living room.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could barely make out that there were no pictures lining the wall - no hint of any other family member living here, let alone a wife. But from how sparsely furnished the room was, with just a couch and an armchair around a coffee table sitting in front of a fireplace, it gave her the hint that the man was a bachelor and living alone. 

Big relief.

Just as she took a seat on the couch, the man returned then with that ‘something’ - a bottle of _corn_ . Pouring into two glasses he had brought along with him, he handed one to her before shooting down his own in a smooth gulp. Cherri thanked him and took a sip, realising that this wasn’t _foot juice_ and it tasted exotically expensive on her tongue. This kind of stuff that was all potent and not watered-down gave a burn that re-enhanced her somewhat-dwindling intoxication.

They did not speak as they sat next to each other and quietly drank, and the moment would have felt tranquil if it hadn’t made Cherri feel quite awkward. 

This certainly was a very slow start to a job with the man having yet to do anything. Most times, she’d have hands all over her body the moment privacy was established. But with him definitely being a first-timer - a shy one at that - it would seem that she may have to be the one breaking the ice this time.

“So…”

The long pause that followed was simply because it was realised that he did not give a name for himself and Cherri was unsure of what to refer to him by. He picked it up immediately and told her, “A.C..”

Short and simple, and at least not so tackily common like ‘Mr. Smith’. 

“So...‘A.C.’? How do you want me to start?”

The _john_ \- A.C. - finally turned to her, she saw that he was still smiling. About what, she did not know. All she knew was that she thought it strange for him to be smiling when he looked so very befuddled.

“Start?”

Yup. Definitely a newbie if he was being so clueless. It would have been adorable to Cherri to see a grown man like him be almost as naive as a virgin, but she wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries considering she wanted to make things chop-chop so that she’ll earn enough to warrant her a turning-in for the night. 

“We can do whatever you want. Vanilla or on the knees, or upside-down too? I’ll even take it up the ass if you’re into that.”

The last bit had A.C.’s eyes widening at the thought of such a heinous prospect, and he looked much more lost than before. 

“Just to let you know - I don’t do kissing on the lips,” Cherri added in quickly. “I’ll be chargin’ you extra if you try.”

“No, that’s not what I want,” he quickly replied.

“Then what do you want, honey?” 

“...A distraction.” 

Oof. That wasn’t always a nice thing for a worker to hear her customer say when it comes to engaging their services. Sure, a distraction could mean probably something bad happened to them at work or just that life’s been real shitty to them that they’d want a little ‘release’. But from experience, most times a ‘distraction’ meant that there’s a woman behind that reason, and it was expected of the _quiff_ to fill in for that warmth that was missing. 

Not a really nice thing to do to one’s lady love for sure, but it wasn’t Cherri’s place to question. Work was still work and she was still on the clock and had to get the _cabbages_ , so she kept her mouth shut and waited for him to proceed. 

“I’m… not quite sure of what I’d like, to be frank,” A.C. answered pointedly. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”

Ah, so not a first-timer like she had assumed. Knowing that made it a lot easier for Cherri to not be so careful around him and be wasting time in guiding the fella, paving an efficient way to get right down to business. 

“Do you probably want me to start out with something easy?”

A.C. stared down at his drink in contemplation. 

“... Do whatever you see fit.”

How formal, though a little stiff. Doesn’t matter so much now because it wasn’t a ‘no’, so she took it as consent to finally get things going. 

Putting her empty glass on the coffee table caused a little spinning in her head as the drugs and the alcohol mixing together was starting to slowly take effect. How Cherri wished she could be in bed now to ride out this sort of high, but the quicker she got this job done then the faster she could get what she wanted. 

She allowed herself a few seconds to breathe and force herself to focus before getting herself in a kneeling position atop his couch, scooting closer so that she could reach out to him and take his glass from his hands and put it together with hers. Hands on his broad shoulders, Cherri gave a gentle squeeze before kneading her fingers into the knots that were obviously there. Tension wasn’t really a good thing to set the mood with, so she needed to get him as relaxed as he could be to make her job a whole lot easier. 

However, there was an opposite effect where his muscles started to harden instead of loosening up like it was supposed. Under her touch, she could feel how rigid he became - as still as a statue and as tense as a bowstring. 

Cherri paused and waited for him to tell her to stop, which he did not do. But like the first time she had felt him tense up, he said nothing and did nothing. A few test presses and still nothing, not even when she went back to massaging him in earnest.

But a massage could do so much and it only left her with aching fingers from tense shoulders knots that refused to budge. That was enough, and she eased her fingers to run down the length of his spine - slowly and sensually, with a touch that was bound to rouse up some goosebumps. She did not stop when she nearly reached his tailbone and instead brushed until they found the buttons of his waistcoat. 

With nimble fingers that were steady despite the shakiness she felt in her head, she swiftly unbuttoned the outer garment for it to give way to his shirt. Her palms pressed onto the well-built feel of his chest, and it was then she could hear a shuddering breath and feel a slight tremble under her touch as she started to unbutton his shirt. 

It did feel kind of nice for Cherri to have this sense of dominance. Oftentimes hookers were used to take what was given to them by their paying customer, but those moments that were rare and in-between of having control of their work was quite refreshing. Refreshing enough that it got Cherri becoming much bolder in her actions.

Scooting closer to him, Cherri’s front was practically draped on his back that he could feel her _bubs_ pressing into him. Her warm bourbon-scented breath fanned down the nape of his neck as she dared herself enough to rake her nails on his exposed chest. She cherished the feel of the planes of his pecs and abs and imagined the pink lines that would form in the trail of his skin, too lost in her movements to notice the peculiar ragged lines that marred his body and the way he quivered at her sharp touch. 

It was what made him grip her wrists before she could make a reach for his belt buckle.

“I can’t.”

The words were said that at the loudest that he’s spoken so far, making Cherri immediately snap back to attention and promptly pause in her ministration as his hands pushed hers away from his body. He got off the couch in a hurry like he was urgent in putting some space between them, casting a glance over his shoulder at her for a split second but looked away as if the sight of her was too much for him to bear. 

“I can’t,” he repeated stiffly. “Apologies, but this is a mistake. I’m no longer interested.”

He seemed no longer still and impassive as he had been, now sounding quite shaky as his hands worked to re-button his shirt. Cherri remained kneeling on his couch and simply watched him 

A matter of cold feet that shouldn’t have mattered much to her, since many would second-guess doing the deed with someone as used as a prostitute or just have this feeling of regret that what they were doing would hurt someone. Most times, Cherri wouldn’t mind, though she’d be just a bit iffy that she had to waste time walking and not get paid for it.

But watching the way he seemed almost terrified of what had nearly gone down, it was clear that the ‘distraction’ that he was looking for in his rash decision had nearly made him do something that he would regret towards the reason behind it. 

“Rough night?” Stupid question really, but she didn’t know what else to say to him. Despite their ‘intimate’ moment, they were still strangers and she was in his house being quite an unwanted presence - especially now knowing that she was nearly used as a means for him to forget about his girl. 

So, it was pretty justifiable that Cherri was feeling absolutely awkward. Especially with how A.C. paused in his movements and there was a pregnant silent that felt like it was filled by whatever he could be contemplating in his thoughts to answer. 

“... Would seem so.”

Cherri chuckled but shook her head in exasperation. “You and me both,” she sighed.

The rain continued to pour outside and the steady rhythm of waterdrops and the low rumbling of thunder was the only thing making noise amidst the silence that had returned to linger within the house. Quiet now, Cherri thought about nothing in particular and simply fell into a daze that was thanks to the effects crashing down with her mood falling flat. 

“Thanks for the drink..." she muttered sheepishly. "Uh… I’ll get going now?”

He barely gave her a nod as she rose from the couch and grabbed her purse off the floor. Yet, she still stood around awkwardly in case he somehow changed his mind. But he didn’t and simply waved her in the direction of the door, so it was then that Cherri saw no point to stay any longer than she was needed. 

With a disgruntled sigh, she begrudgingly left the house and stalked off into the rain hoping for her luck to not be any more shitty than it’s been so far.

* * *

“I’ve invited the Von Eldriches to come to Baton Rouge with us for a little get-together.”

Lucifer looked up from the book he was reading in bed to his wife, who was currently doing her nightly ritual of one hundred strokes of the hairbrush. Her piercing eyes were looking at him in the mirror’s reflections while her hands worked to smooth out her already-silky blonde hair.

“Oh? What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing, darling,” Lilith replied. “It’s just been a while since we’ve gone on a sort of holiday together and Seviathan is due back to Britain soon. So, why not?”

Holidays with the Von Eldriches had been a common thing for the Magnes up until a few years ago when the children were coming of age and off to do their own things as adults, and the mothers headed their societies while the fathers ran their businesses - worth mentioning that in that time, Lucifer had definitely amassed himself a vast fortune that would put Frederick’s family _cabbage_ to shame. Now it would seem that Lilith seemed quite enthusiastic to be ready to play the part of a gracious host, and Lucifer would do no else but to indulge her.

“Alright then,” Lucifer hummed with a glance around their guest room in the Von Eldrich’s holiday home. “At least we’d provide much better rooming than this _copacetic_ standard of lodging.”

“Darling, be nice! The walls might not be thick enough that they don’t hear you say that. ” Lilith scolded with a sharp frown as she shifted her hair over her shoulder to brush the other side. “Anyway, I’ll be asking Charlie to join us as well.” 

The mention of Charlie in a conversation of a holiday with the Von Eldriches made Lucifer look back to Lilith with a doubtful stare. “Really now, do you think that would be wise? You know that she isn’t on good terms with either of the Von Eldrich kids anymore.”

With the tea incident with Helsa and the very-public break-up from Seviathan, it was a known fact to Lucifer that Charlie now harboured a strong dislike to both of them. She showed it quite openly and he could tell that her daughter would definitely not be pleased with the thought of having to be forced to even be in the same vicinity as them. 

Lilith, on the other hand, did not take this into consideration despite knowing of her daughter’s feelings towards the Von Eldrich children. Putting down her hairbrush, she waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, _applesauce_. A fall-out shouldn’t mean that she can’t bear with them for just a day or two. Bethesda’s been asking about her and it would be rude for her to not join us like the old days. I’ll give her a call tomorrow to let her know.” 

Lilith’s tone was firm and unwavering, which meant that her decision to arrange for this was final. Despite knowing Charlie’s animosity, she firmly believed that showing face was due in an effort of cordial appearance. 

Lucifer saw no further reason to contest, though he could only begin to imagine what might ensue should the time come. The conversation he had earlier on with Frederick further spurred reservation on what the son might do should he be within Charlie’s proximity.

Ah, well. He might probably be thinking too much into it. Besides, Lucifer doubted that whatever the Seviathan Von Eldrich would attempt could be worse than if Alastor Carlon should try anything. 

Speaking of Alastor Carlon; wonder how he was doing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *breathes heavily*
> 
> Wooooooooh boy , Mr. Carlon! What did you nearly get yourself into? XD That is probably NOT the best method of distraction! (Then again; you murder people when you're frustrated, so I don't know what to tell you!) 
> 
> I wonder if anyone thinks its a good idea that he let Cherri into his house? •_•
> 
> Looks like the enigma which is Mr. Alastor Carlon has everyone riled up about him and he's just not doing his part to follow what Husk said and not get himself into any more hot water. It truly makes you wonder - how might it be like for Charlie with the way things are now?
> 
> Maybe a certain 'distraction' might come her way? 
> 
> Truly sorry for the unexpected one-week absence from updating, my darlings! If you've kept up with me on Twitter, I had been super busy working on a festival project for my internship (while having mental breakdowns and burn-outs in-between) and I had no time to work on this chapter. But alas! The festival is completed and my workload has gone down, and I've worked quickly to get this done asap! 
> 
> I'm still going to be a bit busy because school is starting next week for me, but I am still going to try to keep the regular updates going on! Thank you so much to all of you for your patience and understanding, and I would also like to thank these lovely darlings Aniki (@charlastorlove), Gabi (@27kiane), Lucie (@CreeNella), Munchie (@SpeereMunchie) and Meowtch (@meowtcha) for their lovely art! <3
> 
> Well, dear readers! Looks like Alastor's slowly losing it (for sure!), so I wonder how might Charlie be faring? 
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Bull-session – Talkfest between men  
> Jag Juice – Liquor  
> Jobbie – Working man  
> Mug – Face  
> Pipe down – Calm down  
> Sloshed – Drunk  
> Chilling off – Killing  
> Bim – Woman  
> Joint – Establishments  
> Flat – Boring  
> And how – I strongly agree  
> Chump – Stupid man  
> Kale – Money  
> Clams – Money  
> Jive – Insult  
> Mazuma – Cash  
> Johns – Customers of prostitutes  
> Boocoos – A lot  
> Ciggy – Cigarette  
> Nose candy - Powdered drugs  
> Ménage à trois (French) – threesome  
> Gunsel – Homoesexual  
> Nance – Gay effeminate man  
> Cheaters – Glasses  
> Blotto-ed – Intoxicated  
> Sales lady – Prostitute  
> Corn – Bourbon  
> Foot juice – Cheap liquor  
> Bubs – Breasts  
> Cabbage – Money  
> Copacetic – Substandard  
> Applesauce – Nonsense


	46. Looming Like Dark Clouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Angel awoke to the sound of heavy breathing that he soon realised was his own. He listened to the way he heaved as though he had just run a mile, even though he could feel his heart taking laboriously slow pumps that emanated through his still body. 

He groaned and forced his eyes to open - even his lids felt heavy and lifting them took a great amount of effort. His vision was blurry from his deep slumber and everything was quite dark, but then he realised that the room itself was actually quite dark despite what little light was pouring in through a single window. 

As the standard of just waking up, Angel would sit up and stretch out all the cricks in his body to get his limbs working for the day. At least, he tried to if it weren’t for the fact that his limbs felt like complete jelly, and it wasn’t just cricks this time because his whole body felt sore. He couldn’t push himself up with his spine feeling uncomfortably pressed by an invisible weight that seemed to be sitting on his chest. His inertia was so uncomfortable but he couldn’t change his position, what with feeling so damningly weak.

Angel suddenly heard a shift beside him that made him want to turn his head, but his neck felt so stiff that moving it even an inch hurt so badly. He groaned from the uncomfortable ache, but was silenced when a hand was placed gently on his arm.

“Hey… Easy now…”

The familiarity of the voice was what pulled him more into the waking world, his conscience clearing up enough to look at the direction of the voice. The face that he was so used to seeing stoic or unamused was now eyeing him with a frown of concern.

“V… Vaggie?” 

Vaggie looked at him in a mixture of worry and relief as her hand rubbed his arm soothingly, all while Angel watched her in confusion. 

“Where...Where am I?..”

What was Vaggie doing here? Was he in the hotel? But why didn’t it look like he was in his room? In the blurriness of his vision, he could see the walls were a plain plaster and the bed felt too hard. There were even rows of similar beds that lined the room, some which had unseen sleeping figures in them.

Oh… This was familiar.

“You’re in the hospital,” Vaggie answered with a hushed murmur. 

Of course, he was.

Angel sighed, but then grimaced upon tasting his own breath. It was unpleasant on his tongue but there wasn’t enough moisture to wash out the taste of his empty stomach. He sure needed a good brushing of teeth, but not before getting some water to quench the thirst his dry mouth yearned for. His _pipes_ felt rough and scratchy to the point of itchy and any sound that came out of him was like a croak. 

On cue, Vaggie had poured water from a pitcher and brought the glass to his lips. One hand gently went under his head to cradle it up so that he could drink at a more easy angle. The silence between them was broken by loud desperate gulps that Angel took, his throat satisfyingly wet again and slowly working from disuse.

After he inhaled another fill of water, he asked quietly, “How long was I out?”

It felt like it’s been a short time since his eyes were last opened like he had gotten the necessary hours of sleep. However, with aching joints all over his stiff body, parched mouth and throat and head still swimming in a heavy cloudy mess of confusion, something told him that it hadn’t exactly been a mere few hours.

Still, it shook him when Vaggie told him, “It’s been a couple of days.”

A couple of days? Had he really been knocked out cold for a couple of days? How bad had the dope been that it practically sent him into a coma? Jesus, the sort of powder that Cherri managed to find for herself…

But when he thought of his fellow _skirt_ , it made him suddenly remember further in-depth the reason for why he took it in the first place. And fuck, if his heart was beating too slowly at the moment, then it for sure was coming to a dreadful stop then. 

**_Val’s gonna kill me!!!_ **

The frightening thought of his angry pimp and something worse than a crystal glass smashed upon his head stirred him up in a panic, subconsciously making him attempt to sit up in an unthinking bid to hightail out of this bed immediately and _lam off_ \- not sure whether to Valentino to apologise or out of New Orleans so that he wouldn’t have to deal with another unwanted trashing. 

His reaction caused Vaggie to urgently place a hand on his shoulder and hold him down with a stern look. “Don’t,” she commanded with gentle firmness. “You’re not that well yet.”

She was right because that sudden movement sent a wave of vertigo that had him falling right back onto the bed and suffering from an immediate dizzy spell. “... Vaggie…” His voice was weak even when his _pump_ was beginning to race, but he was silenced when she shushed him. He was so weak that the sudden rush was enough to have him feeling exhausted and breaking out into a sweat - not sure if it was because of his condition at the moment or the fear that was slowly starting to grip him on the inside.

She wrung a piece of cloth from a bowl of water sitting on the bedside table and used it to dab away at the perspiration on his brows. With that gentle carefulness, it slowly lulled Angel enough to breathe slowly to calm his racing heart

“What happened that night, Angel?” Vaggie asked him worriedly.

Angel did not _spill_ as he was distracted with slowly becoming resigned to the fact that no matter what, shit was gonna go down with Valentino anyway. When that would happen was depending on how long he might have to stay here or if his pimp would manage to find him first, but at least the hospital was a little bit of a safe spot for the time being - a calm before the storm. 

And speaking of the storm; thunder rumbled in the distance of the dark morning skies amidst the cadence of rain. It was exactly the same sound he remembered last hearing that night at the alleyway, and he remembered that’s where he recalled wounding up last when he was still all _hopped up_. He had no recollection of what happened after, as it always was the cause when he had a bit too much to snort. All he could remember last was the dark streets with rain pouring down on him with his head spiralling out of control and his heart beating so hard that it could almost break right out his chest.

“How did I get here?” Angel asked.

Vaggie frowned at not having her question answered, yet she still answered, “Somebody found you on the streets and brought you here.”

‘Somebody’? It was a foggy calling to mind, but that reminder cleared a bit of the haze in his thoughts to vaguely remember the _owl_ that had loomed over him before he blacked out. He couldn’t _put a finger on_ the face to the figure, but somehow he could call back how intense their stare was on him. It seemed almost haunting that the stranger would just stay there watching him, but they probably couldn’t have mugged him, considering he had little to nothing in his pockets at the time. Whoever they were, could they have been the one to bring him here? He wasn’t sure, but if so, then thank God for that, because it could’ve been a lot worse like ending up dead somewhere. 

“The doctors said you were lucky…” Vaggie remarked as she continued dabbing moisture to his face. “Any second longer, and you’d be as good as gone.”

Ah, so he could have ended up dead anyhow. 

Well, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him after all. This wasn’t his first near-death encounter when it came to the powder and he’s just lucky to be able to rouse through another OD. Stoll, first time or not, the thought that he nearly died that night sent a chill running down his immobile spine, and the thought of being moribund in a dirty alley nestled between trash cans was a pretty unappealing - and admittedly, quite sad - way to go. 

“How… How did you two find out that I was here then?” Angel asked quietly, forcing his mind to move past the thought of a lonely death.

“The hospital called Charlie,” Vaggie answered, missing the way Angel’s face dropped at the mention of her name. “Apparently she’s listed herself as your next-of-kin from the last time you were here.”

“Where is Charlie?” he asked with his voice laced with nervousness that was not like his initial reaction concerning Val, milder yet still irksome at the thought of facing Charlie again so soon. 

Alas, Vaggie revealed, “She’s still home, asleep. Ever since she found out you were here, she’s stuck by ever since. She’s even refused to leave until I had to force her to…” 

It should come as a sort of relief to Angel to not have to face Charlie so soon, but it wasn’t considering his ‘brilliant’ plan from that night had been a complete _flop_. All that trouble he went to settle for a night in the streets, and still, Charlie was able to find out about it. 

Vaggie’s expression started becoming stonier as if an unfavourable thought had come to mind. She pursed her lips for a moment but then sighed with a shake of her head. 

“...It hadn’t exactly been easy for her.”

Of course, it hadn’t been. Vaggie didn’t have to make it obvious because Angel knew exactly what she meant by that. He knew that very well, and he knew that was _left to hold the bag_. And to know that even after finding out what happened to him and Charlie still had the heart to stay by his side to the point of even sacrificing sleep for him because she was so worried about him warranted enough of the guilt that had built up from that night.

He broke the promise he made from the last time and betrayed the trust that Charlie had put in him at the prospect of him trying to be better. And to know that she still cared so much made him feel like absolute shit.

“She’s not going to be happy with me, is she?”

Vaggie was taken aback by the softness of his voice and to see him genuinely looking guilt-ridden with sadness setting into his eyes that were now looking away from her. 

Nevertheless, she pursed her lips at the question. Just like that, the familiar glare of disapproval that Angel had always associated with her returned to her features. It started to become a question of whether she was actually concerned about how Charlie would react to the situation, or if she herself was not happy with him.

Which, of course, was a definite ‘yes’.

The whole time that Angel’s been in his comatose state and ever since she had found her standing in the rain and looking so very lost, Vaggie had watched despair looming over Charlie like a dark cloud that refused to go away. Her efforts to appear fine were all pointless because it was clear in her eyes that there was something that was bothering her so much and refusing to let her rest. Any attempt to make a conversation with her was met with a quiet and tired voice that seemed to always be on the verge of cracking into tears. 

To see her in such a state broke Vaggie’s heart as much as it fueled resentment at the reason that her best friend was suffering. She may not divulge all of that to Angel just yet, but she knew she could not let this slide for the _skid rouge_ who needed to _take the fall_. 

“I don’t know about how Charlie would feel about… all this,” she muttered gravely. 

Angel wanted to say something then as it felt like a million words were coming to his cracked lips. It could be blatant excuses or reasonable apologia, but if it was anything to be able to explain himself to Charlie, he wanted to say it. 

However, Vaggie cut him off before he could. 

“...But if there is even a smidgen in you that feels bad enough for her, then you and I need to have a serious talk…”

* * *

“ **_Charlie?_ **”

Charlie realised she was staring blankly at nothing in particular when her focus returned to her upon the call of her name. She had almost forgotten that she was holding the _ameche_ to her ear until her mother’s voice spoke up again on the other end. 

“ **_Darling, do say something please._ **”

“Sorry, Mommy… I’m just a little tired.”

That wasn’t a lie because one could clearly hear the exhaustion that laced her voice. She had only been out of bed not more than an hour ago, but it was definitely not due to any lack of sleep. It was more because of the thoughts that still haven't been leaving her alone. 

“ **_Working, as usual, sweetheart?_ ** ” Lilith wondered in concern. “ **_Then that should warrant you enough reason to come back to Baton Rouge and take a break._ **”

The conversation that she had been half-listening to over the phone came back to mind. Lilith had called early this morning to tell her that she and her father were returning to their manor in Baton Rouge in a couple of days from somewhere upstate. Unfortunately, Charlie’s mind wasn’t exactly being attentive to her mother’s chatter as she was more distracted by something more pressing that’s been lingering in her thoughts. She had only listened enough to grasp her asking to come back to spend time with them. 

“I don’t know if I could, honestly…” Charlie said, all uncertain. “There’s been some pressing issues back at the hotel that I kind of need to attend to.”

She did not have the heart to tell her mother about what had happened to Angel for fear of word getting to her father, who she knew would not take lightly to it. Maybe Lucifer wouldn’t like it for concern of her safety and well-being, but Charlie was more afraid for his disapproval of her having a _dope fiend_ living in the premises that he had gotten for - even if said premises were intended to house individuals like Angel.

It was a good thing that Lilith did not press her on the matter, but instead on her request. “ **_I’m sure the hotel wouldn’t be collapsing if you aren’t there for a couple of days. Besides, Vaggie should be more than reliable to handle things in your stead._ **”

Vaggie was indeed reliable and Charlie was so glad that the darling had gone ahead to the hospital first on her own volition when she couldn’t bring herself out of bed immediately. At least Angel’s being watched over safely for now, and she could be left alone to wallow in the house without her looming around to see her in such a state.

But being alone in the house probably wasn’t a good idea, because it’s only a miracle that she’s managed to keep herself within these walls and not head on out to the house next-door to confront the man who’s been causing her inner troubles. 

“ **_Charlie?_ **”

“Hm?”

“ **_So I take that as a ‘yes’?_ **”

A momentary pause in an attempt to recall what exactly her mother had been talking about this time, but it was drawing a blank. It made her sheepishly ask, “...“For?”

“ **_Sweetheart, is something bothering you?_ **”

Charlie did not mean to make her mother all worried about her now like how she didn’t mean to keep drifting off into her thoughts. But the problem that’s taken root in her mind kept growing to the point it felt like it was branching onto every nook and cranny in her psyche, rendering her unable to focus on anything else for long.

And also; building up the unwanted temptation to go and see Alastor. 

“Sorry, Mommy... I need to head off. A bit of a busy day today.” 

The excuse sounded weak but Charlie did not know what else to say to get off the call, but it was a relief that her mother was always so very understanding.

“ **_Oh, of course, my darling sweet apple_ ** ,” Lilith cooed in her motherly voice of gentle care. “ **_I’ll see you back home this Friday then?_ **”

Charlie actually could not find it in her heart to agree because the thought of not being in New Orleans made her feel uneasy, especially with Angel’s current condition. She wouldn’t know what to expect should she leave town and what she would do if a situation arose. 

However, her mother sounded quite earnest in wanting her to return for a few days and it made her feel guilty because everything that’s been going on for the past few weeks made her barely have a thought to make a short phone call or write a letter back home. She’s sure her parents must be missing her right now if that’s what her mother was asking for, so what was the least she could do?

“...Alright.” 

An ‘I love you’ was exchanged between mother and daughter before Charlie put the phone down and was finally free from the holdback, to which she then found herself drifting to the window. 

The rain was only heavy enough that it made Alastor’s house seem like a blur in the distance. Charlie placed a hand on the glass like she had done a couple of nights ago, as if the motion could make it seem as though the house was within her reach. Well, it actually was, but there was no point going there when she knew the owner wasn’t at home. 

And that was what made her drift to the radio. She hesitated for a moment, but it was with a deep breath that she turned the knob and brought the radio to life, immediately filling the empty quiet house with the melody of his voice that so painfully made her heart ache. 

“ **_\- showers be falling all across New Orleans for the past few days, folks! Better make sure you fixed that hole in your roofs and your laundry’s not hanging out to dry, or the turn of your days might end up_ ** **all wet** **_! No pun intended, of course!_ **”

He sounded so cheery as he cracked his joke about the weather. It would have been normal to put that tone of his voice with the smile and carefree demeanour he’s always held about himself.

However, as she remembered the conflict that marred his eyes when she had seen him last after that moment of desperate and disparate intimacy, Charlie was perturbed by how he could still be keeping up the pretence of normalcy when everything that’s been going on had been anything but. 

She wished that things were easy enough that they would both be able to get together and have a proper sit-down for them to both be open about what’s been going on, and to talk about what’s been plaguing the both of them regarding each other. It would have been much easier for Charlie to properly talk about the feelings that she harboured for him.

Yet she was still afraid of that thought. And she was afraid because it hurt her that with this hesitation that lingered, it seemed that the feelings for him were starting to come again – that is, if it even left at all.

She was certain about one thing. With the kiss they shared that day, Charlie had finally come to accept the fact that she does love Alastor. Or at least, she felt like she did. She had accepted that she had grown this form of romantic interest since the beginning of their ‘relationship’ and had been _stuck on_ him since then. However, could it possibly be love, especially considering how much it had hurt when he left? 

But even after whatever he had done, it hurt her to see him now in such a conflicted state. Alastor had looked so anguished as if this confusion that he was facing was physically hurting him and Charlie did not know what was it about her that was making him seem so afraid. It was like he was fighting so hard with this conflict, yet why was there conflict to begin with? 

Tears started to prickle at her eyes but Charlie rubbed it away in irate frustration, thinking it so stupid to cry because here she was _carrying a torch_ and it was only hurting her more to realise how weak she was that Alastor could still sing to her desperate heart. 

And that was what it was; stupid. It was just absolutely stupid that she loved him and it was hurting so bad that she wasn’t sure if Alastor even felt the same, and it was so stupid that she still wished that someday, he could finally be steadfast about her.

“ **_Now, ladies and gentleman! I’ll pass it onto Tom here to follow-up with more updates on the occurring string of missing-_ **”

Charlie turned the knob and switched the radio off so silence was once more filling her empty house, void of any remnants of his voice floating in the air. She didn’t know if hearing him - at least a notion she could imagine that he was close to her at the moment - was not as bad as the way her mental disarray started to echo louder in the silence. But whatever it was, she knew she couldn’t continue staying there for a minute longer when she should be getting herself to the hospital now. 

Despite how the gloomy weather really dampened her spirits further, Charlie braved through the rain with her umbrella and a strong determination to get a cab immediately, which she thankfully did once she came to the more crowded streets. The elderly driver was sweet in his greetings and attempts at small-talk, but he dulled into silence when it was obvious that Charlie wasn’t in a mood to chat. 

The ride to the hospital was quiet as she continued to gaze at the rainfall, her head feeling like it was surrounded by dark clouds that even followed her into the hospital. It was quiet inside with only the soft murmurs of doctors and nurses going about their duties and nobody paid any attention as she walked with her head hanging low from her inner conflict. 

With each step she took, Charlie drew a deep breath. She straightened her back in her stride and mustered the will to not have her face look so crestfallen. It would be another day of sitting around and hoping for the best despite those accursed thoughts making her feel otherwise, but she had to do her best to keep her head up and her ego higher as much as she could. There was no point to moping around with all that heaviness in her head.

But as she crossed the threshold to the ward, those thoughts that clouded her mind miraculously cleared upon the first thing she saw.

“Angel?”

Angel turned at the call of his name, and so did Vaggie. The both of them had been in the middle of conversing when she came in, with Angel sitting up in his bed propped up against some pillows to support his still-sluggish posture. He still looked pale and weak, but otherwise, he was awake. 

The sense of relief washed over Charlie like ocean waves crashing onto land, so overwhelming that it had her almost sprinting to his bed. Neither of them was able to get a word in before Charlie crashed her body onto Angel’s, arms immediately wrapping around him and tears starting to stream down her eyes as she buried her face in his shoulder. 

“...You’re alright…” Charlie said with a cracked voice in a new chortled sob. “... You’re alright… Thank God, you’re alright…”

Angel was stunned from her sudden closeness and it was only upon feeling her tears wetting the thin fabric of his hospital clothes that he gently returned the gesture of the hug. 

“You’re bringin’ out the waterworks as if you’re at my funeral,” Angel joked half-heartedly before realising the joke was a tad bit too much when Vaggie shot another signature disapproving glare at him. “Hey, now… Don’t need to be bawling, doll. I’m a stubborn one. It’s gonna take a lot more than that to _kick me off_.”

Charlie had not noticed the objectionable banter or his attempts at consoling her. She was probably making a scene to the other patients that were present around them, and she should have probably taken it a lot easier since Angel still looked quite frail. But too immersed in her relief that she was not able to stop crying, internally thanking whatever higher power was watching over them for allowing Angel to finally be awake. It felt like there was now some light shedding upon her dark days.

But to hear her tears and her quiet sobs only made Angel wrack even more in the guilt that had been sitting in his gut and was now making his chest ache. He may be quite the _piker_ now, but this was the exact reason why he couldn’t have brought himself to come back to the hotel that night, because how could he go back to that place when he would only hurt the person that he owed it all to?

He did not know what else to do except to rub Charlie’s back as assuringly as he could while looking at Vaggie, whose solemn stare remained fixed on him with the weight of what had just been discussed and agreed between them.

However, now was definitely not the right time to bring up said decision to Charlie. 

* * *

At the dinner table made of the finest polished oak, a hearty dinner had just been had and now the Magnes and the Von Eldriches were lounging over lovely and exquisite Merlot from crystal cups. 

“I truly can’t wait to spend time in Baton Rouge with you lot,” Bethesda said cheerily after another sip of heady red. “It’s been such a while since we’ve had a nice little get-together, what with you constantly on the move and the children all growing up. It would be a nice break from everything before Seviathan returns to school to finish his semester.”

Lilith nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “Exactly, my dear Bethesda. Our doors are always open for your family to have a stay. And I’m quite thrilled that Charlotte’s able to take some time off from her hotel to be around.”

“How swell!” Bethesda grinned. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. We’re all definitely excited!” 

Her husband and her son nodded along politely, but the mild frown that came from her silent and mildly glowering daughter indicated that she was less than thrilled at the thought. Nevertheless, she politely stayed _clammed_ and simply sipped at her wine.

Lucifer too was respectfully quiet as he swished his drink in his glass, letting the women be chatty about this upcoming ‘vacation’. Honestly speaking, he would never have expected Charlie to be agreeable to it if she had known that the Von Eldriches were coming. He wondered what Lilith must have said to have been able to convince her otherwise.

He was just recalling the conversation that he had with Frederick a couple of days back when Bethesda looked to her son with pert eyes. “I know Sevi here’s been missing her quite dearly. Isn’t that right, darling?”

From his seat at the table, Seviathan almost choked on Bordeaux and flusteredly cleared his throat while shooting a frown at the cheeky look his mother gave him. He pointedly ignored Frederick’s quirked brow and the eye roll that Helsa gave him over the rim of her own glass and instead turned to the Magnes, hiding his embarrassment with a gracious smile. 

“Thank you for inviting our family back to your lovely home,” he said with a well-bred gentlemanly demeanour. “I will admit; it would be very nice to see Charlotte again. I haven’t exactly had much of a chance to catch up with her during your birthday party, Mr Lucifer.”

Ah, yes. Lucifer was sure that the hindrance at the time that was Alastor Carlon had not warranted the young _Joe College_ enough of a chance to be close to his darling Charlie.

“I can only hope that the time spent together would go well.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will be quite the _pip_ ,” Lucifer finally spoke for the first time in a while, replying with a chuckle that covered the blankness of his tone. “Though I hope that there are no hard feelings between you two, considering what had happened.”

While Lucifer did not give a damn of how discourteous he might have been in a conversation - he saw it as more of stating an obvious fact than anything else - his wife clearly did. He had to discreetly recoil in pain when he suddenly felt a sharp jab onto his toes, but did not admonish Lilith for her assault with her high heels when he quite clearly deserved it. 

Lilith returned the smile to Seviathan with normalcy as if no harm was caused under the table. “I’m sure that we can all move past that and enjoy each other’s company like old times. Charlotte has certainly grown up a fair bit since she finally moved to be on her own, so there’s certainly a lot for you two to be able to talk about.”

“Oh, how exciting!” Bethesda champed at the bit. “It almost feels like we’re having a family reunion, aren’t we?”

As he gently flexed the aching toes of his _dog_ , Lucifer snorted internally at the notion of the thought. He couldn’t exactly say that the sentiment for excitement was shared, and he pondered if the same could possibly be said for Charlie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's just angst after angst and then there's an unamused father who isn't thrilled for an upcoming 'vacation'! Good news now is that Angel's awake and alive as he can be. Bad news is that it seems his guilt must be eating at him too much to come upon a decision prompted by Vaggie, but what could that be, I wonder? And hasn't Charlie suffered enough, though?? This chapter's about to head on down another spiral that brings us further into the dilemma of; just what the hell is gonna happen now?! 
> 
> In the midst of starting school, doing an internship, juggling a job and doing part-time tutoring on the side now (why I do this and still wonder why I'm so tired nowadays - please bonk me), I'm just glad that the chapter's managed to come out smoothly for me to progress! 
> 
> But as always, I like to thank all of you who bear with my now-odd update schedules, and for being so patient with me and my bushwa on Twitter (in which I've been obsessing of Handsome Bastards and Beautiful Himbos, along with Devil Goat Daddys). But! I'd like to thank the lovely darlings who's created a knee-slapping meme of Smiling Man and even fanart of it, so thank you careenloba (@careenloba) and Nancy (@Nancyplus100)! 
> 
> I will say though - a lot of you are wondering if Cherri's appearance in Mr Carlon's house might hold some sort of significance (spoiler; it will, and very soon!) 
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Pipes - Throat  
> Lam off - Run  
> Pump - Heart  
> Spill - Talk  
> Hopped Up - High  
> Owl - A person who is out late at night  
> Put a finger on - Identify  
> Flop - Fallen through; Unsuccesful  
> Left to hold the bag - To be blamed for something  
> Skid rogue - A bum who can't be trusted  
> Take the fall - Accept punishment  
> Ameche - Telephone  
> Dope fiend - Drug addict  
> All wet - All wrong  
> Stuck on - Infatuated; in love with  
> Carrying a torch - An unrequited love  
> Kick me off - Kill me  
> Piker - Coward  
> Clammed - Close-mouthed  
> Joe College- A well-dressed student  
> Pip - Extraordinary person or thing, sometimes used sarcastically  
> Dog - Feet


	47. As Erratic as the Skies Above

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

The office was quiet, save for the rustling of papers and the audible exhales of cigarette smoke coming from the bespectacled man seated at his desk. It hadn’t exactly been a busy day for Alastor with just another round of talking about the still-ongoing rainy weather and other mundane happenings around town, but he supposed that’s what he would get for owing his headlines to Tom. 

The chump has had a thrill at getting more airtime being the voice behind more exciting news like the ongoing missing cases. Although, there hadn’t actually been many updates on that subject - both in evidence and in occurrence - and that’s probably because Alastor hadn’t had much of a hand at it for the past few nights. And of course, who else could be blamed for his distraction other than -

“Al?”

Alastor hummed over his  _ dincher  _ and cast his glance up from his papers to his boss.

“You plannin’ over-time? ‘Cause your shift ended half an hour ago.”

With surprised eyes, Alastor looked to the clock on the wall to see that it was indeed well past his quitting time. “The rain’s dulling out my senses,” he remarked as he got up from his chair and stretched loose joints. “‘Twas getting kind of peaceful if you ask me.” 

He butted out his cigarette on the ashtray on his desk just as the boss did the same to his own. “Oh, yeah. If you consider a bore on the waves peaceful. Seriously, Al. Are you trying to make me lose our listeners by putting Tom for the headlines?”

Alastor chuckled on his way to the coat rack. The  _ honcho  _ hadn’t been all too happy to know that his star host with the golden voice and silver tongue was taking a backseat for his duller associate. “Come now, give the man a chance. I’m sure he won’t be having the listeners dead in the ears for the next couple of days.”

“Lord have mercy on us all,” the boss sighed with a shake of his head. 

Alastor barked a laugh before a bid goodbye after he shrugged on his coat and put on his hat. He walked out of the office with that familiar stride of his, but as the thought of returning home came to the forefront of his mind, it was a few steps in that his strides fluctuated and fatigue started to wean at him again. 

And this was exactly why the streets of New Orleans were relatively safer than they had ever been thus far. Alastor was not just tired - he was quite exhausted, in fact. He didn’t think he was up for a night out to continue putting the city on edge with another hit. All he wanted to do was to go home and fall asleep, but to go home suddenly had him remembering...

_ Damn it… _

It had been a struggle to push it to the back of his conscience because of how dull it had been with nothing much to occupy his mind space, but now he just had to think about it again! 

Alastor rubbed his face irately with a groan just as he stepped out of the building. His legs were automatic in going onto the path home while his mind flooded with the memory of the stupid deed he nearly committed the last night, reminding him of how pathetic he had been to go so low as to nearly seek something like that just to forget about-

“Alastor.”

Well, speak of the fucking Devil.

Alastor wanted to believe that it was the fatigue of his psyche that was causing him to imagine her musical voice calling out from behind her, or hallucinating Charlie slowly approaching him with hands wringing on the handle of an umbrella when he turned around at the voice. But as she stood in front of him now, he knew that this was no damning illusion to torment his sanity but a real living punishment. 

“Charlie?” 

This seemed like an exact repeat of the last time that Charlie had suddenly appeared at the station to confront him and he wasn’t all too happy about that thought. Despite his disinclination, he kept a polite front for the sake of civility.

“I know I said that we would ‘cross paths’, and we have several times at this point. I just didn’t think that you would be the one seeking me out.” Alastor had said it with a smirk as if pleased with this unexpected encounter, but his cheekiness was definitely off. 

It was easily noted by Charlie that his tone was more sombre than she would have expected of him, but she moved forward with the conversation. “Well, maybe, there was some intuition in me to want to find you.” She didn’t allow time to register his surprise at her forwardness and told him, “Take a walk with me.”

Her eyes were fixed on him, but the glint in them was wavering with nervousness. This was probably because it was clear that Alastor started to hesitate, contemplating to turn down the offer because he simply felt that he was not ready for another uneasy conversation.

But that didn’t deter Charlie, although she did falter from her steady stance. “Um… because we still need to discuss that upcoming interview. Unless you’ve forgotten?”

He wasn’t sure what she was talking about until he wanted to smack himself on the forehead when it came back to mind but refrained from doing so with a smooth smile. “No, I didn’t. But would now be sufficient time for us to discuss it? I’m actually off-the-clock now so-”

“It’s just for a few minutes, that’s all.”

She didn’t press on as Alastor would have expected because that one sentence alone told him that insistence would not be done from her part. Gone was any tentativeness as her gaze was now strong and determined to not take ‘no’ for an answer. Alastor was astonished to see this sudden ferocity in her, though he found it admirable enough to yield. 

“I suppose a few minutes can be spared for you.”

Charlie discretely breathed out a sigh of relief just as Alastor gestured for her to lead the way, and she did. She turned in a direction and set off with him following right beside her, and together they walked aimlessly in this gloomy dusk that was thankfully not raining, walking by many others who had gone off the clock and was heading for after-work plans. 

It didn’t take Alastor long to realise that Charlie had nowhere in particular that she wanted to head to. 

The silence that hung between them was broken by her quiet voice. “Busy day?”

“Oh, yes!” That was a complete lie with Tom occupying his precious airtime, but she didn’t need to know about that. “The storms have been slowly acting up, if you’ve realised. Some might suspect it could be some hurricane incoming.”

“That sounds absolutely terrifying,” Charlie muttered with a nervous downward tilt of her lips, and Alastor probably shouldn’t be making this conversation any more uncomfortable than it needed to be. 

“Soo, uhh… The interview?”

“Ah, yes!” she had exclaimed with wide realised eyes, as if she must have forgotten that it was the whole entire reason they were even on this walk in the first place “So, what do you have in mind?”

Alastor scratched the back of his head in uncertainty because he honestly hadn’t given much thought about that impromptu promise to actually have a plan set. “It mainly depends on what you have for us to talk about,” he coolly said, not giving away his cluelessness.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Charlie chirped eagerly, her cheeriness tilting Alastor’s lopsided smile a little higher. “New sponsor, patrons already signing up, renovations underway and what not. We can start off with all that!”

Alastor hummed in consideration as he nodded his head in acknowledgement. “So, are we probably looking at a similar flow like that last time? I prompt you with the questions and you answer?”

“Pretty much, yes,” Charlie agreed. “Easy and right to the point.”

“I suppose you already have some notes prepared as well?” That particular phrasing suddenly had Alastor remembering a particularly amusing part of the last interview, which had him smiling a tad bit mischievously now. “Got any script that I ought to follow this time?”

Charlie was sharp to realise that by that remark, he was referring to what had happened the last time that nearly made her stumble near the end. Reasonably, she huffed at the memory of that little ‘setback’. “No, I don’t. Though I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t do anything of that sort so that I won’t run the risk of looking like a bumbling fool on the radio again.” 

She gave a glare and her lips were pursed when Alastor laughed heartily. Somehow it did feel nice to see him looking genuinely amused for a change, but still, it wasn’t nice that he was finding it funny at her expense!

“Apologies, my dear.” Alastor’s smile was soft as he calmed down from his giggles. “I don’t mean to tease, but I must say that you are sure to have a whole lot more confidence this time. No hand-holding needed at all!” 

What Alastor had meant by that was simply that Charlie would require no guidance this time during her interview, but he did not mean to refer to was the action that he had taken to calm her down that time - an action that was probably one of the first few moments that had set his supposed spiral to dilemma into motion, and was now making the things far worse than Alastor had intended to allow it to be. 

It shut both he and Charlie up, stupefied to the point where they could do nothing else but to stare at each other in a fluster. 

“Eheh…”

“...Yeah…”

And suddenly, they didn’t feel like talking about the interview. Well, there wasn’t anything much more to discuss since they’ve already talked about what was needed and that was it. Pretty straightforward like they had expected, and kept within the few minutes that she had promised it would take.

“...This walk isn’t just about the interview, is it?”

“I think you already know that.”

No, they both knew that the conversation was so very incomplete, and there were much more important things that needed to be said that could not be left in uncomfortable silence. 

Alastor could feel resignation befall upon him at that confirmation, though he would say that he did appreciate her honesty. “Well, darling. You are quite the open book after all. It’s quite easy for me to read you.”

“So you would know that whatever I’ve told you has been true?”

Again - complete silence. 

“Alastor, whatever I said that day... I was actually honest.”

Charlie’s eyes as she gazed at him unyieldingly was like a stormy sea of emotions that was threatening to pull him under another once more and stir up a storm of his own. He could hear a voice inside him telling him to leave and not look at her if he did not want to risk any more self-confliction than he could just barely handle, but it was too late because he was already answering her.

“I know,” Alastor said quietly. She did not have to elaborate because she had said enough the last time they had seen each other, and because her formidable gaze was only filled with a burden that was not weighted by lies. “‘Open book’, remember?”

Surprisingly, Charlie started to laugh quietly, but it was the tinkling laughter that Alastor had liked about her. Rather, this laugh was completely devoid of joy and sounded somewhat breathless like she couldn’t breathe properly.

“Oh, Alastor. How easy it must be to read me,” Charlie said with her words sounding choked. “If only I was granted that same ability, then maybe I could know what must be going on with you…”

“Why would you?”

“Because you confuse me so much that I feel like I’m losing my sanity over you.”

There was a pause as her face turned red from that confession, and for a moment she did not know what to say. Neither did Alastor, but could Charlie blame him for his uncertainty when she herself had caused him to feel the same? 

It took a while before she sucked in a sharp breath and finally went on. “One moment, you told me that you wanted to try again - that you wanted to be close to me and fix things between us,” she paused again with a shuddering breath that exhaled shakily, “But next, you say you don’t care to figure out what ‘love’ is and tell me that you ‘loathe’ it.”

Her eyes were down-casted when she expressed her woes and he could see the sadness in her usually-bright orbs, dull from what heaviness must be resting internally in her heart and mind. She looked like she was about to cry when she asked, “Which one is it, Alastor?”

And just like that, Alastor felt his heartstrings tugging uncomfortably taut like they were bound to break any second now. And just like that, he felt a tinge of anger towards himself that he’s subjected this much to the both of them because of his own indecisiveness. And just like that, he was filled with a whole lot more regret from the previous night than ever.

For fuck’s sake! He actually brought a prostitute home just because he thought that fucking another would rid him of this desire that he held for Charlie. How stupidly he kept telling himself that it was just a one-night stand and it wasn’t as if he’s never had one before her, how he assumed that it would just be sex and he could carry on his merry way once he’s  _ barneymugged  _ some other  _ bim _ . And see how well that had turned out when he couldn’t bring himself to do it because being groped by that  _ skirt _ felt as disgusting as touch always was to him. It made him sick to his stomach to even think that he had actually considered it in his desperation because of how weak he was in that moment and because he so urgently yearned to exercise those desires on none other than Charlie herself. 

It was just making too many mistakes in one night and it had Alastor reeling himself into that spiral of confusion all over again, this time being so intense that he could almost feel himself starting to crack from the inside. It began to gnaw at him with the plethora of discomfort and regret, because how pathetic had he been to do such a thing while here she was seeking him out of the volition of her own despair.

“You don’t have to answer me if you aren’t too comfortable,” Charlie repressed in disheartenment. “The last thing I want is for you to leave again so suddenly.”

Alastor couldn’t even find the words to begin with, his gaze wandering in search of what exactly to say. It was in this distraction when it came to his notice that they were now standing near trimmed shrubbery that was decorated with flowers in bloom, with that flower in particularly catching his eye. 

Charlie watched curiously as he reached out and gingerly plucked one from the green. She couldn’t see what it was when he brought it closer to his face to gaze at it, but when he held it out and presented it to her with soft mellowness, she had to hold her breath in when she realised it was a common daisy in full bloom that he was holding in his fingertips.

It brought back the memory of a time not so long ago when he had sweetly given her one the morning after something so horrible, and when she had unceremoniously thrown it to the floor of a cafe without a care in the world.

But it was with such gentle care that she reached out to receive the small daisy and her breath shuddered when their fingers brushed, skins warm on each other’s touch. It sent both of them stilling, with that brush of familiarity that somehow sent an ache that made them feel uncomfortable yet dissatisfied at the same time.

“Charlie, I’m sorry.”

And here it came.

Charlie dared not look at him. She kept her sights on the tiny daisy that she twirled between her fingertips. Watching the petals spin around in a white blur, it was the brightest thing in this gloomy atmosphere, and it was her anchor through the rejection that she was anticipating from Alastor. She willed herself to go through and bear with it, just like she had been mentally preparing herself to. But even with coming to terms on her own, she realised that now as she stood in front of him, she so badly wished for otherwise. 

“I’m sorry for confusing you when I should have been truthful that the feeling was quite mutual.”

The flower stilled in her fingers and her eyes darted up from it to look at him if he had told some outlandish statement that was absolutely improbable. Her flabbergasted face was a clear indication of her disbelief at his answer, as was her voice that was quiet when she uttered a hesitant, “What?...” 

It became quiet between them, but Alastor was sure that the racing beat of his heart was sounding out clearly from inside him - at least, that was all he could hear in his ears when finally, he confessed.

“I do have… feelings... for you, Charlie. But if I have to be honest, I’m not quite sure what to make of it.”

Even though she was looking up at him, the weight that Charlie’s stare bore made him feel heavy. It made Alastor uncomfortable and he wished that there was some way he could weasel him out somehow one way or another. 

But then again, how long exactly could he run from this? Ever since her little siren song at the speakeasy, his mind had been enraptured with nothing else but her, already fallen victim to the seduction of her voice as she professed her feelings for him. Avoidance was futile; look how well it worked out for him when it wouldn’t stop bothering his thoughts! Furthermore, Charlie herself was evidently now in pursuit, if her showing up to his office out of the blue was more than enough reason to believe so. 

Maybe what Husker had said that night was right. How long was he going to let this go on? All it led to was stagnancy and build-up of aggravation that was beginning to take a toll on his too-exhausted spirit. The thought of remaining in such a predicament did not sit too well for him, which was why even though his throat felt constricted, Alastor still forced himself to push out those words that had to be voiced out. 

“It’s not something that comes easy to me, if I have to be very honest. Like how you are telling the truth, so am I when I tell you that; I’ve never felt anything like this before. It’s just so unfamiliar to me so I’m not sure how exactly to act or behave, which would explain my less-than-stellar behaviour. It’s probably inexcusable but it is how it is.”

He must have said that all in one long breath if he was suddenly inhaling a deep gulp of air when he was done, but it did so little to steady his rapid heart from the effort he had to take just to get that all off his chest. It was only a wonder how Alastor still managed enough stability in himself to keep his gaze locked on Charlie, who still looked somewhat unconvinced.

“It just feels like there’s something else too…”

Oh…

Oh, if only she knew…

“I just want to know if there’s anything about me that’s making you feel really uncomfortable,” Charlie nervously asked to know, fingers flexing in agitation on both the handle of her umbrella and the daisy she carefully cradled to her chest. “ If we are ever meant to make things any better between the both of us, please just tell me what it is.”

_...Oh, Charlie… Why?... _

Why was it that even after everything that’s happened, this sweet sinful creature was still being the saint she was? How far did the goodness of her heart extend to be mindful of a man so damned and dastardly as he was? It was such a loving gesture, and it infuriated him to no end in his frustration. 

And what exactly should he tell her? That the reason he’s holding back was because of that tantalising desire to kill her and taste her flesh to fulfil this hunger that doesn’t seem to be going away? That now just the mere thought of holding her made him unable to tell of whether he wanted to revel in her warmth or smite her of it? 

He could not answer the question for himself so he sure wasn’t able to give her one now. Instead, he opted for the easier part of her statement. “Whether anything can be better between us is completely depending on what we decide now.”

“So what should we do now?”

Alastor shrugged. “You tell me.”

The reply was not as nonchalant as it sounded, because now he simply refused to follow his gut instinct when it’s all muddled up the way it was now. Now, he didn’t want to listen to what he wanted, but to what she wanted. 

And her answer came confidently. 

“We can try again.”

That sounded more like a statement than a question, and he could see how bright and steadfast her eyes were as she awaited his answer. And now, he could feel his cold heart suddenly enveloped in a warmth that bloomed from somewhere within his core. 

Charlie kept him still in her steady soft gaze and he swore he could feel his resolve wavering by the second. Hell, what sort of bewitchment did she have on him to render him so?

With a careful touch, Alastor reached out and cupped her face, feeling his breath taken away when she leaned into his touch. Her skin was soft against the roughness of his fingertips and he relished in the warmth that emanated from the softness. Time seemed to slow down for them at the moment, and the cold in the frigid air around them did not seem so biting anymore to their skin when they were warm the way they were now.

Though, Charlie got warmer in the cheeks when Alastor gently replied, “We… We could try.”

Yes, indeed they could. But what exactly would happen in the end should they attempt again remained to be seen, and Alastor himself hadn’t the foggiest clue what.

Troubling, really. 

But troubling as it may be for him, it was not so for Charlie because now there was a glimmer of hope that started to shine in her doe-like eyes as her lips upturned just the gentlest bit into the sweetest and softest smile he’s ever seen.

How long had Alastor not seen that smile? How long had he not cherished such a glorious sight to behold? How long had it been that he yearned for that beautiful visage?

This was dangerous. 

With careful restriction to urges he tried hard to push back down to the depths of his core, Alastor withdrew his fingers from her skin and ignored the feeling of missing her softness on his touch. Keeping his hands crossed behind his back from not trusting himself to not succumb, he asked quietly, “Shall I walk you home, Charlie?”

That brought her back to awareness of the time, to which she looked at the skies that were darkening with the promise of nightfall. 

“No, it’s alright,” she replied, “I have to get to the hospital.”

The hospital. It was a relief that he did not have to bear being around any longer but also reminded him of the little situation from a couple of days back. “Your friend, is he-”

“Yes,” Charlie answered with a nod. “Yes, Angel’s awake. And it’s all thanks to you.”

The praise did not sit well with Alastor, but he kept his placid smile in place. “Just at the right place at the right time, I suppose.”

Ever the humble gentleman, she assumed. “Would you like to come along with me? To see him?”

Charlie did not let her disappointment show when Alastor shook his head in refusal. “It’s quite alright, darling. I’ve had quite a busy day, so I’d just like to hit the hay as soon as possible.”

Ridiculous excuse, because who the hell goes to bed just when the Sun was about to set? But his resolve in not being in her presence any longer remained and he just needed to take himself away from this little moment before he said or did anything else stupid. Luckily, the tiredness of his face that was emphasised by his pronounced eyebags convinced Charlie of his exhaustion. 

“Of course. I shouldn’t keep you out any longer.” 

And so came the end of the conversation. Charlie was admittedly still in a conundrum somewhat, but her heart felt lighter after talking it out with Alastor. However, now was not the time to gush about it when she was about to stick a hand out to flag down a cab, although Alastor had already summoned one to pull up right beside her. 

He stepped forward to hold the door open for her, and then looked at her with a smile that was truly the gentlest she had seen in a while. “Take care, Charlie,” he said, “I’ll see you around the neighbourhood.”

Yes, they would. But she couldn’t be satisfied with that promise because now it felt like the time to part had come too quickly that it did not allow much time to bid a proper goodbye. She wanted to return the farewell, but just a simple bid of ‘bye’ or ‘see you around’ doesn’t feel enough to suffice what had just occurred, and it didn’t feel enough when she wanted to end this on a more hopeful note. 

With that, Charlie was quick to get on her tiptoes and rise higher so that her lips could reach his cheek to give him a quick peck. She could feel the exact moment he froze but turned her face away in embarrassment as she got inside the cab and forced herself to not look at the way his eyes watched her stunned. Only when the vehicle took off did she allow herself as much as a look over her shoulder through the rear window, and it did something to her to see him press a hand to where her lips touched him. 

It was a mutual gesture when she placed her fingers to her lips, reminiscing the warmth of his skin that she had been yearning for. Her heart fluttered erratically, but calmed down somewhat as she gently caressed the velvety feel of the daisy petals that she still had in her hand.

Just that touch alone made her feel comforted enough to believe that maybe things were starting to go right somewhat.

* * *

Charlie’s been at the hospital for close to an hour but there’s only been a few words exchanged with Angel so far, who would only listlessly look at some random spot with unreadable eyes. She thought it to be because of the exhaustion from his delicate health. The poor guy.

“You feeling okay, Angel?”

Her voice was hushed and patient in respect to his still-sensitive state-of-mind and for the other patients around. It did get his attention when his gaze flicked to her, and answered her with a grimace.

“A lil' better, I guess. Just wishing I can get out of this stupid bed and actually be able to stretch these  _ gams  _ proper.”

Oh, well that’s quite understandable. Seeing as how he’s been confined to the bed for the past few days, she’s sure that it must be stifling for him to not be able to move around freely. “Well, it’ll take some time, but you’ll be out before you know it,” she said with a gentle reassuring pat to his hand. “Heck, we could probably even just take a long walk back to the hotel to make up for lost times walking.”

She giggled at her jest but failed to realise how much more sullen Angel’s gaze turned as he looked down at her hand on his. He gritted his teeth and clamped his mouth shut tighter from the heaviness of the words that sat on his tongue.

“I’m sure you’ve missed your bed back at the hotel so I took the liberty to have it ready with fresh sheets, and I’ll have the kitchen stocked up-”

She was in a noticeably much chipper mood than she had been the day before, and that only made the situation worse for Angel. Charlie could not tell that the reason for his silence was because he had been stewing over decisions that made his tongue feel numb to even want to say it. He didn’t want to, but seeing the way she was excited for his return to the hotel made him realise that he couldn’t hold it in any longer, and it was finally now or never. 

“Charlie...”

Charlie’s chatter died down the second she heard the graveness in his voice as he uttered her name, which in itself was strange because Angel rarely called her by name unless he was about to talk about something serious. And it was obvious that he was from the way his hands were balled up and his jaw clenched as he stared at his lap with solemnity.

“Angel? What’s wrong?”

Angel looked up and levelled his gaze to hers, and she found it chilling that his eyes were stone-cold. His jaw relaxed to allow his mouth to part as he talked.

“I’ve been staying at your  _ joint  _ and up ‘til now, I haven’t actually been following your ‘mission’.”

Now, this was odd. Why was he talking about the hotel and her purpose now? 

“Don’t think too much about it now.” Charlie waved off the statement that she knew was fueled by guilt over his actions. “Change takes time and it’s going to take a lot of effort.”

But Angel was not convinced. In fact, he only seemed more resistant as he continued.

“Doll, I’m gonna be  _ on the level  _ with ya when I say that it’s pretty obvious that I haven’t actually been keeping up my end of the bargain. I thought it’ll just be a small thing to do in exchange for the free bed and all the food. But honestly, it’s been making me feel more like a pathetic  _ dewdropper  _ than I’ve ever been.”

Charlie had to admit that there was some truth in his words, but she had never gone as far as to think him as a ‘pathetic  _ dewdropper _ ’ as he had labelled himself. 

“Angel, don’t say that please…” She wasn’t liking where this conversation was going as much as she didn’t like the way his eyes hardened with thoughtfulness as he contemplated something in his thoughts. She held her breath and waited anxiously.

Angel hesitated, pressing his lips over and over again in consideration, but finally sighed in defeat and gave his answer in a mutter. 

“I’ve actually been giving it a little bit of a think… And honestly, I think I wanna quit wasting your time and move out.”

Angel had already known what to expect, but it still felt pretty damn bad to see the way she sunk dismally at what he had said. It made him look away again as if he was guilty of something, which he was if making your friend that dejected could be considered a  _ caper _ . 

“But…” All  _ balled-up  _ as she was, Charlie felt like it wasn’t easy to use her voice. “But, Angel-” 

Angel stopped her mid-sentence with sharp swiftness, taking a deep breath before forcing the words out of him. 

“Charlie, listen. You are sweet and all, and I know you’re gonna do swell with those ‘patients’ that actually do wanna change.” Angel did his damned best to give her a reassuring smile, but he was sure as hell that it wasn’t convincing enough to rid her of her sad dismay. “But, I just ain’t that sort of person. I’ve been the sort of person I was nearly my whole entire life and I don’t think there’s anything that can change that. I’m not right there and I’m just gonna waste your time so-”

“No.” 

Charlie interjected immediately before Angel could say anything more, and she reached out to take her hands in hers with desperate urgency. “No, Angel, please… I don’t want you to leave just like that. And I don’t think you’re like that! I know you. I believe you have it in you to change, even if it takes however long! You’re not a bad person and I believe that you-”

Charlie was silenced by a hand raised in her face and she stared at him. He was hanging his head and his long messy blond locks were covering his face so that she would not be able to see the way he grimaced as he willed himself to push on.

“Come on, Charlie!” Angel’s voice was laced with a little more steel than necessary, but it was to keep in tune to the sharp words he was going to throw at her. “You gotta realise that you can’t help everyone, especially those that don’t actually want to be helped. And especially those that can’t, I’ll say.”

What had been said to her had been despairing thus far, but there was something about that last bit that suddenly struck a serious chord in Charlie. Her gut dropped and her heart clenched, feeling a prick of indignation hit her at the jab about her mission. 

She opened her mouth, realising just at the very last minute that she was actually intending to argue back against that statement that Angel had made. However, she was clearly not the one domineering this  _ jive  _ they were having as Angel stood by what he said, only getting stronger in language as his resolve would allow him.

“If no one wants to change, then you can’t force it either. It’s just nature to them, and it isn’t your fault,” Angel muttered gravely. “But you need to get your head out of the clouds and stop thinking that you could help everyone. Not everybody’s as nice as you are, Charlie. You need to wake up and not waste your time on whoever don’t deserve it, even if it’s someone as fucked-up as me.”

And when he finally put a full-stop on that tirade, Angel decided that he’s finally said enough when he was only overwhelmed with a strong distasteful bitterness at seeing the hopelessness painting her face and making her seem like some kicked puppy or some little kid that got told that Santa Claus didn’t exist - that really wasn’t a sort of thing someone ought to be proud of making someone feel. 

Her heart could almost be heard cracking in the tense silence that fell hush between them. Charlie could do nothing else except stare at Angel in confusion and disbelief. 

Why disbelief? 

Probably because she wanted to believe that he didn’t mean what he had just said to her and that he wasn’t just demeaning her like so many others did in telling her to ‘get your head out of the clouds’. 

But then she remembered - he himself thought that her whole plan had been a crock of  _ bushwa  _ and figured Charlie to just be fooling herself into thinking she’s some  _ crepe hanger _ . 

And put it into retrospective from all the bad things that have been happening to her, she should have known by now that the world was shit and some people were shit and not everybody was gonna be interested in the thought of change as she did. 

Her father didn’t, neither did Alastor, and now Angel. 

Oh, how she thought she would have been used to it all by now. And how such a fool she had been to realise that no, she wasn’t used to it, and it hurt so bad like any other failure had.

Too immersed in her silence was she to notice the way Angel eyed her with worried hesitance. “Charlie…” he called to her gently despite not knowing what to say to comfort her.

But it would see she did not wish to seek comfort when she replied, “It’s alright, Angel. I understand.”

She definitely didn’t, judging from the defiance in her eyes that wanted to argue against his statement, which Angel honestly didn’t think that he had the willpower to go through with it. But ever the angel she was, Charlie did not push it and continued to have a trembling smile played on her lips. 

“If you think that this is the best for you, then that’s good.” Angel could tell that she was holding back tears but said nothing to let her continue. “I thought I was at least able to help you in finding the path back from your past, but you’re right. You can’t change if you don’t think you can, and I should not be the one forcing you to do it.”

Her half-hearted smile did little to convince him otherwise that she was fine with what was happening, nor did her wavering composure as she told him,  “I just want you to know that if you ever still need help, I’ll always be around.”

True to Charlie being Charlie in all her soft goodiness, she spread her arms wider than her smile to silently ask for a hug. With a sigh, Angel let himself be taken with his long arms too wrapped around her in return. He kept still, pointedly ignoring the way Charlie’s chest was heaving as she inhaled deep gulps of breaths to stop the tears that were agitating her bobbing throat. 

Seeing how so broken-hearted Charlie was now, Angel’s bitterness and resentment grew with the guilt he now held towards this dear doll.

Vaggie had better be sure as fuck that this would indeed be for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Alastor! Fucking finally!
> 
> Still the confused bastard he is, but at least he's finally admitting something that Charlie (and us!) were so desperate to hear! But of course, with Alastor being Alastor, would he able to come to terms with the truth smoothly? It's a step in the right direction, but we gotta keep hoping!
> 
> And Charlie, my love... Just when she's gone over one hurdle that's been plaguing her for so long, now she's got another! This darling sure can't catch a break, and it's just one heartache after another. It's only a shame that Angel's had to do it 'for the best' when it wasn't even his choice to begin with....
> 
> Sorry for the slight delay, readers! This chapter was supposed to be up yesterday, but if you've been following my Twitter, you will discover that I have successfully managed to burn off the pad of my left thumb and it hurts like a bitch. It's fine now if only just having a nasty blister, but I'm sure as glad that it's just the thumb and not the whole hand! 
> 
> Writing's gonna get a lil wonky for a bit, but rest assured that I'm still going to be typing as fast as I can to get to the point where shit starts to go down - AGAIN!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Dincher - Half-smoked cigarette  
> Honcho - Boss  
> Barneymugged - Had sex with  
> Bim - Girl  
> Skirt - Prostitute  
> Gams - Legs  
> On the level - Honest  
> Dewdropper - A slacker  
> Caper - Crime  
> Balled-up - Confused  
> Jive - Unpleasant talk  
> Bushwa - Bullshit  
> Crepe hanger - Reformer


	48. Sticky Wicket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

It was supposed to be just another boring slow night at the speakeasy, so its employees weren’t expecting anything much to happen that night.

Well, that had initially been the plan, if not for the unexpected appearance of a certain someone that had Husk raising a brow incredulously.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Husk greeted monotonously as Alastor perched himself on his usual barstool. As much as it was meant as a jibe, the radio host did look somewhat worse for wear in consideration of how he looked as though he hadn’t a moment’s peace for quite some time. 

Alastor only gave him a sharp unamused look, but surprisingly said nothing at the barb. “The usual, Husker,” was all he said in reply, with even his ever-present smile looked somewhat empty in his greeting.

Husk hummed nonchalantly at his indifference but compliantly went about getting his drink ready. But just as he grabbed the tonic, Alastor stopped him abruptly.

“On second thought; skive off the tonic. I’ll take the gin straight.”

And that was how Husk figured that he was having a bad night for sure. Neat whiskey was one thing, but a neat gin?

The bartender didn’t ask anything first and unquestioningly filled a tumbler up with the recommended amount of syrupy dutch. But just as he was about to finish his pour, Alastor gestured to fill it up a little more.

Whatever had happened must have been real shit if he’s planning to drink nearly a whole tumbler of gin on its own. 

“Do I even wanna know?” Husk asked out loud as he handed over the man’s drink. He watched Alastor gulp down a few hard sips with a pronounced wince. The smiling man grimaced at the taste of liquid fire, taking a few seconds to recuperate from the burn with a short hack of a cough. 

“No need to act so coy, my friend,” Alastor muttered through a strained voice. “You ought to already know what.” 

He was right about that. “Anything new or the same old bullshit I’m expecting to hear?” Husk questioned unenthusiastically as he went about fixing himself his own spot of gin - not neat, because he wasn’t looking to get too  _ canned  _ up like Alastor was going to be. 

Alastor was quiet as Husk shook up his gin in a shaker full of ice and poured it in another tumbler that had a wedge of lime, distracted by the clear liquid in his own to mind the way the grumpy bartender was waiting for his reply, which he was thinking over how he was supposed to put out what he was to say.

It came out as an abrupt, “She wants to try again.”

He heard the answer just as his lips touched the rim of his glass, giving himself a substantial gulp before asking, “What?”

“Charlie,” was all Alastor replied. 

The bartender was confused at first, but then his eyes widened just the slightest bit in surprise when he finally understood. “You two are speaking to each other again?”

Alastor hummed and readily nodded his head. “Been quite some time, honestly. She came to look for me at the station earlier today and she wanted to talk. She’s asked to try again.”

Charlie went and looked for him? Sheesh, now wasn’t that a complete twist. After his little bump-in with the doll just a couple weeks back, Husk would have thought that she would have stayed away as he had warned. Well, it clearly looked like she was a whole lot more stubborn than he would give her credit for, even more so considering that she actually went after Alastor.

“Oh… And then?”

Jesus, he didn’t mean to make it sound so awkward, but how the hell was Husk supposed to deal with a conversation about Alastor’s love-life woes? Murder and cannibalism was one thing, but about a girl? Husk was as bright as a broken bulb trying to talk about it.

His incompetence at the subject went unminded by Alastor, who took another small sip of his gin with pursed lips. “I told her that we would try again,” he said grimly.

Okay, now this was taking an even more surprising turn for Husk. With the way he’s been acting every bit the  _ palooka  _ he could possibly be with refusing the very idea of it, seemed like he was finally at least being a bit reasonable with things.

And that’s supposed to be a good thing, right? He’s been moping about it for the past few weeks and had made it very obvious his disdain for the whole situation, so to hear that the doll had actually gone up to him herself to ask for another chance and he accepted it should mean that things were being set right for him, right?

Of course, Husk kind of knew otherwise. “Why do I get the feeling that it isn’t as nice as it sounds?”

Alastor chuckled half-heartedly, making the situation as ominous as suspected.

“Because-”

Before he could even have a chance to answer, Husk already had a pretty sure clue on what he was going to say and raised a hand to his face to cut him short. “Wait, wait. Let me guess; you’re still thinking of eating her?”

Alastor narrowed his eyes at the statement, but there was no denying that Husker was right. “You make it sound so uneloquent of me, Husker,” Alastor remarked with another swig. “It’s far more complicated than that.”

On cue, Husk took another big swig of his drink, preparing himself for the conversation he was going to have to tolerate. 

“Charlie Magne is so infuriating,” the radio host went on bitterly as he gazed down at his clear bitter drink. “What about her is making me go against everything that’s been ingrained in me for nearly my whole life? She’s-”

“An ‘anomaly’. Yeah, you said that.” And all that _malarkey_ about how love’s a waste of time and you are completely above that.” That sort of bullshit made Husk roll his eyes to the back of his head with an irritated groan. “Jesus Christ, Al. Get over yourself.”

Alastor didn’t appreciate being scolded like some dumb sappy schoolboy, but he just had to be acting like one and it was so goddamn infuriating. He was a grown man, for fuck’s sake! This ridiculous existential crisis was almost embarrassing to Husk, who could only sigh with an exasperated rub of his face. 

“Look, you killed some fat bastard for touching her, nearly slit Mimzy’s throat for messing with her, and now you’re even giving in for a shot of another chance with her? Face it, Alastor. You’re all  _ goofy  _ for this girl. Deny it as much as you want but that’s how it is.”

It probably wasn’t helpful, but it was straightforward. What’s the point of beating around the bush when it was what it was? 

“Sometimes, shit happens,” Husk explained as calmly as he could. “It ain’t up to you to decide, but you just gotta let it. Besides, it’s just feelings. Ain’t enough of a good reason to be getting all  _ pie-eyed _ , especially for someone like you.”

That struck a nerve in Alastor, whose exasperation grew with agitation. “Exactly, so do you see why this is becoming quite the mess for me?”

“Ah, for fuck’s sake, loosen up, will ya?” Husk did not want to waste his energy listening to another one of Alastor ‘woe-is-me’ rants. “You love her, and she clearly has feelings for you if she’s looking for your sorry ass. Go and be with her. Have a relationship. There ain’t nothing wrong with that, you know.”

He had expected the argument - this was Alastor, and Alastor was never one to let someone mouth him and get away with it without a final say. As such, his reply was defensive. 

“There is something wrong, Husk. This is very unlike me, and I’m not quite fond of all these sudden changes.”

Husk wanted to say it was because of the man’s pride and ego in considering himself as someone not so easily swayed by feelings and being in complete control of his psyche, but even that couldn’t possibly be enough to justify how adamant to the playings of the heart he was. It was like there was some deep-rooted issue that’s got him so riled up that it’s rattled him to his core.

Some deep-rooted issue that he wasn’t going to divulge in, for sure. 

“You’re obviously gonna be stubborn as fuck. I can tell,” Husk noted with a shake of his head as he refilled his drink. “So, you tell me then; what exactly do you want to do now?”

Despite the mess that the man’s managed to put himself in, he thought that he would at least have a plan. Even if it might be ridiculous and threaten to get Husk tearing his hair out at the sheer stupidity, a plan was still a plan and it was better than nothing. 

Yet, while it was a very simple statement-of-fact, it felt so discerning to see Alastor just giving a direct answer instead of him giving cryptic replies that usually led to nowhere. Looked like that noggin of his wasn’t in the right state to act like his usual cock self. But still, seeing Alastor like this was very  _ fluky  _ as it was. 

Either he’s just too in the blues or the gin’s starting to really get to his head - or maybe a culmination of both - because he just looked blankly at the glass in his hand and looked… lost. So instead, Alastor only chugged down whatever was left in his glass before hitting it down on the tabletop and sliding it to Husk - an unspoken demand for more. 

“Drink.”

* * *

She’s noticed it ever since the blonde got back home when the atmosphere in the house seemed to have dropped as low as her energy had been. Even dinner was quiet, void of the chatter that Charlie would usually engage over meals. Vaggie had attempted to make some small-talk that had only been replied by short half-hearted answers followed by excusing herself from the table to head up to her room.

Right now, Vaggie watched her through her open bedroom door. Charlie was hunched over the bed as she folded clothes and packed it away into a small suitcase. She was getting ready to leave for Baton Rouge tomorrow for a weekend with her parents. Vaggie had thought she would be able to tag along this time, so it was a huge disappointment that she was told to stay behind in New Orleans to watch over the hotel and their warded friend while she was away. 

Speaking of which…

Vaggie gave the door a gentle knock. “Hey, Charlie?”

Charlie stopped folding clothes and turned to look at her. She wasn’t crying, but there was a listlessness in her usually-bright eyes that made her entire demeanour very sad-looking. “Yes, Vaggie?” She sounded tired, but not because of sleepiness. 

Vaggie invited herself into the room and took a seat on the edge of her bed. Charlie wordlessly joined beside her and set aside a dress she had been in the middle of folding. Her eyes were downcasted to the floor and she did not say anything, so Vaggie had to.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked gently. She did not want to prod Charlie into talking, but she knew that her friend was the sort to want to vent about what was weighing on her mind. After a little twiddling of thumbs, Charlie heaved a sigh and started running her fingers through her hair.

“I just… I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong…”

Vaggie tilted her head with a disagreeing look. “Charlie, I don’t think you’re doing anything wrong…” She didn’t know what exactly she was reassuring her about but felt compelled to do so upon seeing her that way.

Unfortunately, her attempt was futile when Charlie shook her head in adamant disagreement. “No need to sugarcoat it, Vaggie. I am,” Charlie said. “Angel’s leaving.”

Vaggie blinked a couple of times. “Oh…” she muttered.

Her tone held the note of quiet shock and surprised - because of how she had anticipated it, she was able to maintain the farce. Of course, the news wasn’t actually a surprise since she’s been expecting it, though she clearly hadn’t expected Angel to do it so quickly. She had just been waiting for the right time to bring it up but looks like now Charlie’s beaten her to it.

“He told you he’s leaving because of what happened?” Vaggie asked in a curious tone that was unsuspectingly genuine. 

Back to twiddling her thumbs, Charlie recounted what exactly had been said by him earlier on. “Yes, somewhat… He started talking about how he was never going to change and that he didn’t want to waste any more time at the hotel.” 

“Seriously?” Vaggie replied with a roll of eyes. “Uncouth as always, I see.”

Too uncouth for something that was meant to be a cover story. Angel hadn’t been anywhere near as unrefined as he was in his behaviour when Vaggie had first brought up the subject of having him leave. 

“Well… who knows what is up with that fella,” Vaggie remarked carefully. “Though, he hadn’t actually been enthusiastic about it at first either. Remember, Charlie? He’s even laughed in your face about it.”

Of course, Charlie remembered. But the memory of the first meeting wasn’t enough to convince her about his behaviour. 

“I don’t know what’s gotten over him, Vaggie… I honestly thought he had improved himself... At least, to me, he did…”

As much as she stayed steadfast to her opinion of the  _ rent boy _ , she had to admit that Charlie certainly had a point, especially since she’s seen him somewhat show him. 

When she had first told him what he had to do, Angel had been in complete disagreement, adamantly protesting that he did not want to leave the hotel and tried to sugarcoat those statements with how he swore that he won’t ever pull bullshit like that again. Vaggie had thought that it was perhaps because he did not want to lose the free lodgings that he had been given, and she was more than ready to not let his selfishness win her over. 

But the more that Angel protested, the more Vaggie had an inkling that he genuinely did not want to leave because of Charlie. She recalled how soft his eyes were with regret, how his tone was remorseful through apologies and pleads that were mainly centred around the intention of making it up to Charlie. 

It hadn’t been what she would expect out of him, and she hadn’t been too sure what to make of it at first. 

“You wanna know what else he told me?..”

“What did he say, hon?”

“He told me that I shouldn’t expect him to change and that I should wake up and stop wasting my time on people like him because he simply can’t be helped.”

The solemnity that was fraught with sadness had Vaggie thinking. 

Yes, to see Angel have sincere guilt did pull some heartstrings for her, to the point where she had thought that maybe there was still time to reconsider his actions and allow him to try again. 

However, recalling the way Charlie stood outside in the rain and looking so lost and confused and scared and sad, her resolve remained and won out in the end. If he had genuinely not wanted to do such a thing to Charlie, he should have thought twice before taking a hit and disappearing to save Charlie the worry and stress. And considering this was his second chance gone bust, Vaggie was not sure whether to trust Angel with keeping up with the promise he’s made for a third time, because she simply would not want to allow Charlie to be that way again if he were to pull another stunt like that. 

And not just Angel, but to anyone who would step into the hotel and act in such a manner.

“Well… Angel does have a point, Charlie,” Vaggie said. “Not everyone’s gonna be keen on the idea of ‘rehabilitation’. He might feel that way, and you can’t force it.”

Charlie, however, looked aggrieved at such an implication. “I’m not trying to force it, Vaggie. That’s why I let Angel leave. But I’m scared.”

Vaggie tilted her head curiously. “Scared? What for?”

Her silence was unsettling, as were her eyes that were the dimmest Vaggie’s seen this whole entire night. 

“I’m scared because what if I won’t be able to help others like how I wasn’t able to help him?”

“Come on, hon. Don’t think like that,” Vaggie tutted in disapproval. “Not everyone’s going to be difficult to help. There’ll be others that would be keener about, and they’re the sorts that are definitely worth the time working on to have them be rehabilitated.”

That was simply how Vaggie saw it. Only those who sincerely wanted change and a chance of a new life outside of prison would have been the most worthy for them to take in. Call it a personal bias but  _ hoods  _ like Angel or even those that lived the life harder than he did... she honestly doubted that they’d be capable of change. 

Okay, maybe that’s taking it a bit too far in personal opinion. Maybe it’s just her, stemming from the fact that she saw a man walking out on his family to be completely undeserving of second chances, so what of those who commit heinous acts in life and did not consider their actions before it was too late?

Criminals were criminals for a reason, and they deserved what they got if they had ignored the consequences the first time. For some, it would have been ingrained into their bodies and minds that their life only revolved around  _ capers  _ and whatever other illegal matters. Sure, there might be the rare few who wanted an out from that life, but really, how often do people like that come along?

Of course, that was what was firmly believed in by Charlie - sweet Charlie, who saw the matter through the point-of-view of those treated unfairly.

“But if I can’t help Angel, then how am I supposed to help everyone who’s going to come to the hotel to seek help? The hotel’s a place for them to have a chance. The whole point is for them to have the opportunity of rebuilding themselves for a better life. So that they can be accepted back into society and everybody who ever turned their noses at them would start to treat them with respect.”

The speech was so impassioned as it reached its crescendo, but the zeal disappeared as fast as it came. Charlie’ sudden bout of vigour died out as her shoulders slump like her energy was sucked right out of her when reality kicked in and reminded her that she had already failed in helping her first and only client. Just like that, the hopelessness diminished her spark, depressing her once more.

“I just… I just feel so helpless. And useless. I need to be strong if I want to get through with this and be able to help, but I don’t know if I’m going to do things right…”

For however long Vaggie had known her over the years, Charlie’s usually-steadfast determination could still waver in the event of one prominent failure. Understandably so, seeing how she’s had multiple passion projects die out before it could flourish, thus resulting in this sort of anxiety. 

The hotel’s been her most complex project by far, even becoming the one she worked the hardest on. Vaggie remembered those late nights in her bedroom at the Magne’s home where Charlie would stew over her desk on the paperwork that would ultimately become her proposal for the hotel’s concept. With how long she’s toiled over bringing the concept to fruition, failure would come with a much bigger blow than before. 

However, Vaggie was sure that it wouldn’t be the case this time. This was Charlie, and her determination knew no bounds. This could be devastating for sure, but she believed that like all the other times, she would find her way to get right back up on her own two feet again. Angel had been a little hiccup, but one that Charlie could learn from and note on what can be done to avoid it ever occurring again when the hotel goes into full swing. This was just one of the many hurdles that she needed to face.

“I think you’re thinking too ahead of things for a bit,” Vaggie told her softly and reassuringly. “It’s not all hopeless yet. We’ve got enough time before the patrons check in to sort out how you can handle this best.”

Now’s probably not the time for pondering about the next course of action. Charlie looked so strung out like she hadn’t had a proper break for a long time. Her determination might know no bounds when it came to what she wanted to do but even Vaggie knew that a pause was required to prevent her from burning out from the piling stress that came with the job. 

Giving a pat to her overnight bag, she advised her best friend, “In the meantime, just take a break, alright? Relax. You’ve been through a lot and it’s about time you get some much-needed rest away from the hotel. Besides, I’m sure your parents really miss you so think of nothing and just enjoy your time with them.”

Charlie looked at her half-packed bag, contemplating over what little content of clothing had been kept in there. Vaggie could tell that that the conversation was still weighing heavily on her thoughts, and the thought of Angel leaving and the impending arrival of actual hotel guests was giving rise to hesitance that did not make her so keen on leaving even if it was for a couple of days. Vaggie would not have minded either way, but with how much stress that Charlie’s been under, she thought that probably a break away from everything here would be the best idea.

Eventually, Charlie nodded slowly in agreement. “I guess, you’re right. Things have been so crazy ever since we first set foot in New Orleans. It almost feels like I’m being kept on my toes all the time.”

“In that case, you ought to get some shut-eye soon,” Vaggie advised as she got up from the bed. “What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

“First thing in the morning. Just let Razzle and Dazzle in when they get here.”

At least this time there was the reassurance that her loyal butlers would be personally picking her up tomorrow, so Vaggie needn’t have to worry about any ‘unexpected company’ that could possibly tag along. However, that relief was dampened by the heaviness that was sitting in her stomach after the deep conversation they had but did not express it when Charlie spoke again.

“You sure you’d be alright handling things around here?” Charlie asked. “I just feel really bad again… I’m going on a break and here you are having to pick up my slack.”

Vaggie waved it off with a polite shake of her head. “Nonsense,  _ querida _ . It’s nothing I can’t handle. And don’t need to worry about me. I’d rather you go ahead so that you can come back well-rested.”

A simple statement of friendly assurance, but enough to warrant Vaggie a hug from Charlie. “What will I do without you, Vaggie?” Charlie mumbled into her friend’s mass of dark hair. 

She sounded so grateful, and such a thing would make Vaggie feel all warm from Charlie’s kindness. But this time, it only hurt a little bit inside from the guilt that was still biting into her conscience. She pushed that irksome feeling down as she gave Charlie a gentle squeeze to make things not seem out of the ordinary, before pulling away. 

“Goodnight, hon.”

“Goodnight, Vaggie. Rest well.”

Vaggie turned away and headed straight for the door, closing it shut behind her to leave Charlie alone to complete the rest of her packing before bed. When her best friend was finally out of sight, that was when it felt like it was starting to crash down on her as she leaned against the wall with her fingers running through her long dark hair.

That’s probably going to be easier said than done, because there was a lingering hint of what felt like guilt sitting uncomfortably in the bottom of Vaggie’s stomach.

There was that nagging feeling inside her - probably her guilty conscience, for sure - that was telling her that she shouldn’t have done any of that, and that she should have let Angel stay.

However, she was convinced that this was for the best. There was no way Charlie was ever going to progress with the hotel if the residents themselves weren’t willing to comply with her mission. Charlie didn’t have the heart to nip it in the bud, but Vaggie saw it necessary for her to do it before things got a whole lot out of hand.

What she was doing was for Charlie’s sake and the betterment of progress. 

Yes, there was nothing wrong with that.

* * *

“This is what I get for hiring crack-whores,” Valentino grumbled under his breath through irate puffs of smoke. “Throw three sheets in the wind and they forget they’re supposed to be makin’ ya money.”

Cherri said nothing as she stayed rooted to the spot, trying her best to look as nonchalant as she could without slipping too much of her fear. It didn’t help that Valentino’s friend from the other night was here again, watching the scene apathetically as he lounged on the couch with a drink in hand. That was one pair of eyes more than necessary to watch her get cut to the quick to embarrassment. 

“You didn’t even make enough to cover Angel’s ass that night,” Valentino sneered in irritation. “How the hell you gonna be pickin’ up the pace for two people if you aren’t putting your cooch to good use?”

As much as she didn’t want to get on Val’s bad side any more than she already was, being blamed for something that was beyond her control was unjustifiable to her. Hell, she would probably have been able to score at least one that night if it wasn’t for the little ‘setback’ that only left her stranded in the rain.

“It wasn’t completely my fault. Some limp-dick fucker got scared and backed out. Wasted my entire fuckin’ time and I had to wait out the rain because of him.”

But Valentino wasn’t interested in hearing her excuse, instead asking, “Did he at least pay you for wasting his time?”

Just as Cherri was about to answer, she paused when she suddenly realised that the  _ john  _ hadn’t actually paid her. While it was true that they hadn’t gotten right to the dirty, she was technically ‘hired’ the minute he led her away from the pavement, so he should have at least compensated for engaging her and bringing her to his home.

“For fucks’ sake!” Valentino cried out angrily with a throw of his hands up in the air. “Fucking wasting my money on your time. Now I’m gonna have to chase an overdue! Would you please at least tell me you know who the ball-less sap is?”

Cherri merely shrugged. “Hell if I know,” she said in a blunt statement-of-fact. “Says his name’s A.C..”

“A.C.?” Vox suddenly said after the entirety of his silence in the room. His brows were quirked in sudden curiosity at the mention of the name.

Valentino was too busy gathering up information to mind his friend. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more descriptive, darling. How else we gonna make the fucker pay if we can’t find him?”

Hearing the word ‘pay’ only made Cherri feel bitter at her mistake, but she couldn’t find herself entirely to blame. “Would’ve thought the fella wanted to get it on with how much he smiled that night.”

“‘Smiled’?”

Vox’s voice was a tad bit louder than necessary as he repeated that one word, like it was a tremendous clue of some sorts. Both Cherri and Valentino turned to see him getting up from the couch and trailing to Cherri like an enthusiastic little puppy. 

“Say… This  _ john  _ of yours wouldn’t happen to have brown hair, a pair of  _ cheaters _ , and that smile of his be bordering on fuckin’ creepy?”

That was too descriptive to count for a lucky guess.

“Yeah?... I think?...” Cherri replied uncertainly.

Vox reached into one of the pockets inside his jacket and pulled out what looked to be a folded-up piece of newspaper. There was much question as to why he was carrying such a peculiar item on him, but it wasn’t raised as he unfolded it to shove a picture printed on it in Cherri’s face.

“This wouldn’t happen to him, would it?”

Cherri reeled back a little bit from how close Vox held the newspaper up to her face and only then was she able to get a clear look at a picture of a handsome man that had wide eyes behind a pair of spectacles, looking bright as he smiled for the camera…

“That’s him.”

She may have been high that night, but she hadn’t been high enough that she couldn’t discern the face of the man that had approached her on the pavement. It was definitely his smile that she remembered best, recalling the way he kept smiling even when he seemed so uncomfortable having her around. 

And with that confirmation, a creepy smile stretched across Vox’s lips, and he turned around to Val with a look on his face that was like a kid in a candy store or some lucky mug that’s just won the lottery. 

Valentino’s eyes only went narrow. 

As a friend, Valentino would say that he knew Vox very well - well enough to recognise the hatching of a mischievous scheme. Vox’s grin was bitten at the edge, stopped from spreading as the funny idea in his head grew onto his features.

“I’m not gonna ask why the hell you even have that on your person, Vox. What I am going to ask, though, is what the fuck are you tryna pull here?”

While Valentino was not objective to a few petty crimes here and there, he knew that they were dealing with quite the sensitive subject here. So Cherri’s unpaid customer turned out to be the one man that Lucifer had instructed some very special surveillance on, and that was seen as something so very important to Vox. He wanted to say something, but decided to keep quiet for a little while more to see what would be playing out.

“Where did he take you?” Vox asked Cherri with urgent demand. 

There was something about the way he eagerly asked that question that did not sit right with Cherri. She wouldn’t like to divulge the addresses of her customers’ homes. In her reluctance, she was silent. 

“Answer me.”

“Answer the question, Cherri,” Valentino piped up from behind Vox, watching expectantly of the  _ skirt  _ to comply and give him what he needed to know. The sharp look was enough to waver her to answer.

“...His house.”

“His house!” Vox suddenly exclaimed, eyes turning so wide that he almost looked deranged with glee. “You hear that, Val? We’ve hit the jackpot!”

Valuable information indeed. With what little they know about the radio host other than his social popularity and occupation, there hadn’t been much dirt to dig up on. Not that Valentino was up to doing that as far as the radio host had been raised as a concern for them, but Vox definitely had if he went as far as to have a newspaper page with his face on it. 

With that little knowledge alone, he saw the chance to  _ get a wiggle on _ , and the prostitute’s just made herself to be quite a valuable asset. Playfully smirking, Vox jerked a thumb to where Valentino was sitting behind him. “Say, doll. Wanna make a couple extra dollars to get this motherfucker off your back?”

“I ain’t fuckin’ deaf, ya know!”

Vox ignored Valentino’s indignant growl completely as he waited for Cherri to give her answer, delayed from how busy her eyes were as she darted back-and-forth between him and her glowering pimp behind him.

“I… I don’t know.” Her voice wavered with her hesitance. She was scared because whatever this man in front of her was planning, it was definitely going to involve her, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

Looked like there was a need for a little monetary persuasion - something Vox was more than willing to cover for this opportunity. Without so much as a breath, he reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and he saw the way Cherri’s eyes widened noticeably at the thick wad of cash he had produced. 

It was amazing that the thing’s still intact even when it’s barely being held together by the straining money clip, or that it could hide well in his jacket without making a prominent bump to how much he had on him. This was definitely a man who wasn’t afraid to keep  _ scratches  _ on him. 

Vox could feel the heat of Val’s stare boring onto his back and he was pretty sure that he wasn’t too enthusiastic about these unexpected turn of events. But nonchalantly wetting his thumb with a swift lick, Vox flipped out a couple  _ pair of Cs _ from the  _ boocoos _ and turned around to drop it onto his desk. “Here, Val. That should cover her and your missing  _ gigolo _ .”

Valentino did not accept the gift so readily, his eyes turning to slits at the dubiety of Vox’s intentions. But his associate paid him no mind when he turned back to Cherri, plucking out an extra  _ century _ from his stack and waving it right in her face. 

“And for you, my dear - a little ‘incentive’.”

Cherri’s eyes were fixed onto the  _ yard  _ bill like she was under some sort of hypnosis. This was a huge  _ gravy train _ , and one that was more than she could ever hope to make in a few weeks of good nights, and if she chose to accept it, it would be all hers with no interest required for her overloaded pimp. It’ll be more than enough to cover her for the time being, and not to mention stocking up more on her powder.

But as tempting as it was, she knew better than to accept such gifts that came easily, especially from a  _ darb _ like him - especially him. This was Valentino’s friend, and anyone that’s a friend of Valentino’s was bound to be as slippery and conniving as he was. Cherri’s been working around these shady dealings so much that she knew very well that extra cash wouldn’t come without a catch.

“What do you want me to do?”

But catch or not,  _ fix  _ or not, money was still money, and she needed it. And if meant getting Valentino off her case for a little while, then that’s a bonus.

Vox smirked gleefully at her compliance and looked knowingly at Valentino over his shoulder. The pimp gave him an unamused quirk of his brow, wondering what sort of deviant plan was stirring up behind that wide ecstatic eyes of his.

“Our little friend’s supposed to receive his free service ‘courtesy of Valentino’. We ought to make sure we fulfil it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty much a filler before the next chapter gets into the nitty-gritty of the next arc, which I am honestly looking forward to seeing how Charlie would fare once she's made her way to Baton Rouge (where a certain 'someone' awaits for her arrival eagerly!) Though I must say, with Charlie gone, what trouble can occur in New Orleans now that Vox finds himself a step closer to unravelling the mystery that is Alastor Carlon, with a little help from our dear Cherri (yikes...)
> 
> And speaking of the nitty-gritty, it's been a real one for me in balancing school and work and a shitty internship, but oh my I am going to pull myself through for these next few chapters! As always, it's lovely to receive such beautiful fanart from dear readers, so thank you to the lovely elichie (@elichiichii), Nancy (@Nancyplus100), Mama Freya (@Wifeofthesoules), Covil-B (@Covil_B) and qraundkk (@graundkk).
> 
> I hope you lovely darlings take care out there! See you next week!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Canned - Drunk  
> Palooka - Stupid man  
> Malarkey - Nonsense  
> Goofy - In love  
> Pie-eyed - Drunked out  
> Fluky - Strange  
> Rent boy - Male prostitute  
> Hoods - Criminals  
> Capers - Crimes  
> John - Customer  
> Cheaters - Glasses  
> Skirt - Prostitute  
> Scratches - Cash  
> Pair of Cs - $200  
> Boocoos - Load  
> Gigolo - Gay prostitute  
> Gravy train - Source of easy money  
> Century - $100  
> Yard - $100  
> Darb - A person with money who pays the check  
> Fix - A bribe


	49. Unfriendly Banter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

His vision was blurry - certainly because of the migraine that was already starting to ache, and also because he didn’t have his glasses on. With a groan as he roused from sleep, Alastor stretched out a hand and searched blindly, finding a table in his reach that did not quite feel like his nightstand. It felt like a coffee table that was draped with a length of lace - definitely not his nightstand.

Luckily, that was where his glasses were. Immediately putting them on, the unfamiliar sight of a living room came to his clear view, looking too lacy and too decorative. Frames of embroidery decorated the bright cream-coloured walls along with black-and-white photographs of a tall young woman, some which showed her at the side of a dapperly older gentleman. It was easy to recognise the image of Rosie in her youth, and it set Alastor at ease about where he was.

Despite his headache, he still had enough energy in him to get up from the couch he had been asleep on. He was still clothed with his undershirt and trousers, his dress shirt and suit jacket draped neatly on the backrest of a chair nearby. He forwent dressing up to walk to the window, looking at the rainy sight outside that showed a familiar road. Looking at the dark clouds, he guessed that it must have been quite a while since sunrise, though he couldn’t be too sure with how dim the day looked.

He stared blankly out for a while more until he turned when a door opened behind him, and greeting him was a mousy-looking Niffty.

“Mister Al…”

“Niffty.”

Nifty kept her head hung low as she entered the room with a tray that held a bowl of wheat porridge and bread and a glass of water that had two yellow pills sitting beside it. “Madam Rosie’s got some Cafergot to help with your headache,” Niffty explained as she set the tray down on the coffee table. “She rather let you have that instead of some  _ hair of the dog _ like Husk suggested.” 

Alastor hummed gratefully as he sat back down at the couch, watching quietly as Niffty arranged the dishes on the coffee table. He reached out for the glass of water to quench the thirst he just realised he was having, but paused when Niffty immediately side-stepped further from his outstretched hand.

“Come now. Are you still afraid of me?”

Despite how small she was, Alastor thought that Niffty started to look smaller with the way she seemed to almost be hugging herself, keeping her tiny arms tucked in tight to her frame and her movements minimal save for the wringing of her hands. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured softly, tone obviously slightly shaky. “I’m just... a lil’ nervous… around you.”

He’s always known Niffty to be quite the fearless young girl, considering her spunk when it came to the most gruesome messes to clean up after, or her eagerness to assist in their little  _ capers _ . So to see her so uncharacteristically wary of him was not something Alastor was quite used to, yet at the same time, he could understand why. 

“Of course. No need to be apologetic with me, darling.” He bore in mind to speak softly and gently, to show no ill intent to cause any distress to the poor girl. Instead, he kept his hands to himself and asked politely, “Would you be a dear and hand me the water and the pills?”

The hesitation did not last longer than a few seconds before Niffty took both items and placed it gingerly in his receiving hands. He thanked her before gulping both pills down with several gulps of water. He felt relieved to feel quenched and was now slightly better than the less-than-stellar state he woke up in. 

“How out of it was I?” Alastor asked as he pulled the tray of food closer to the edge of the coffee table. 

Niffty shook her head with a tut. “All _loaded to the muzzle_ and _slopped_ more than now. But Husk wasn’t in any better condition to get you home, so here you are. Madam Rosie’s glad you at least didn’t soil her couch.”

Let this be a lesson learned; never take a neat gin ever again.

“My, how embarrassing of me,” Alastor sighed as he lazily tore pieces of bread and dipped it into the gruel. Breakfast was a little on the bland side for his liking but it was easy on the stomach, and it was only when he started earnestly tucking in did he realise how famished he was. 

As he ate, Niffty quietly stood away, arranging things that needed no rearranging and straightening things that were already straightened. It was all to bide her time in the room as he helped himself to the food. Even  _ bleary-eyed  _ as he was, Alastor still noticed this easily. 

“How is Mimzy?”

Probably not a good conversation starter, but it was a matter that he knew he needed to close with Niffty since her precariousness toward him was all because of that. He’s already had enough slighting thrown towards him in light of recent behaviour, and he was honestly getting tired of ignoring it all for this long. 

The little doll was clearly surprised that he would even bring up her best friend, but that surprise only brought reluctance in divulging the topic. Regardless, she answered with a simple, “She’s fine… somewhere.”

“I don’t suppose she’ll be returning to New Orleans anytime soon, would she?”

“...No… No, I don’t think so.”

As expected. With the way he committed quite an attempt on her life, no doubt the  _ canary  _ would think twice about stepping back into New Orleans while he was still around. It did not bother Alastor in the slightest - he was usually a man who held little regret for his misdeeds - but he knew that it did for Niffty. 

“If you must know; I did not intend to harm her for no reason.”

“I guess” The way Niffty answered was like she was already expecting him to say that. “It’s because of that girl, isn’t it?”

This time, it was Alastor who fell silent. 

It would seem that now, the subject of Charlie would always be raised in his presence. It vexed him, because that was the whole point he opted to throw  _ four sheets to the wind _ the night before, just to offer himself a moment where she could not infiltrate his thoughts. However, now it would seem that even self-incapacitating his mind did not guarantee that Charlie would not still be at the end of his thoughts regardless. No matter which way he turned to, she would be there.

His vexation was clear to Niffty, who did well to not press on the sensitive topic. But just because she was feeling courteous about that, did not mean that she was willing to hold down what’s been sitting on her chest any longer. She knew Alastor to be quite the reasonable man at times, and it was with this notion of him in mind that she took her stand. 

“I don’t care what you want to do to her… I can’t change what you did or what you’re going to do. But I just wished you hadn’t hurt Mimzy because of her.”

It felt good getting it off her chest, like a cry for justice for the mistreatment that had caused her best friend to run for the hills all frightened and terrified for her life. But when Alastor kept in grim silence, it made Niffty uncomfortable as a fretful realisation dawned on her that she had probably spoken too out of turn. She began to shrink away as she anxiously took a step back, but stayed where she was and dared not run. 

But Alastor did realise her need to voice this out, and did not see any reason for any comeuppance. If anything, he only felt the need to do right by her.

“My apologies, Niffty.”

Along with Husk and Rosie, Nifty was one of the few that he still held a degree of respect towards. The doll had only been an innocent bystander in this whole  _ jam _ , and he had enough regard for her to own up to what wrong he did to her. His pride aside, it was only right that he acknowledge the hurt he caused to her for hurting her best friend. 

Such a deed that was necessary and the correct thing to do, yet how strange it felt.

Alastor was never one to give out an apology of such magnitude, and it would have been more likely for him to  _ high-hat  _ the situation and go along his merry way as his pride would dictate. He was the type who did what he wanted and would do so with no regrets. 

So, how he really had changed. 

And Niffty could see it.

“Mister Al?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Are you feeling alright?”

“... I’m not quite sure, honestly.”

It was a simple answer, but it left the air feeling thick and heavy with apprehension that brought dourness. Niffty wanted to ask something more to be a listening ear to what was putting the man - whom she would still consider a friend - in such a worried state, but she didn’t and instead kept silent as she went about to clear up his empty dishes. 

Alastor did not stay too long at Rosie’s, feeling like he’s already overstayed his welcome. The proprietress was out so he could not extend his thanks to her, so he left ruffling the top of Niffty’s head affectionately - a silent gesture of peace that she too felt was so out-of-character for him. 

He wasn’t too hungover that he couldn’t manage himself back on his own. The rain let up just enough that he wouldn’t get too drenched on the trek, but he welcomed the bite of the chilled wind on his face. He breathed in lungfuls of sharp cold air, feeling himself getting somewhat rejuvenated to a more refreshed state. 

If only with each expulsion of breath could he also expel the thoughts that weighed heavy on his mind. However, the thought of Charlie did not leave as he wanted. But what was the point, honestly? It’s been this way for so long that it’s almost rooted in him. And try as he may to nip it at the bud, it seemed like that stem was stubborn in its unwillingness to be cut from his psyche. It was a funny analogy that he thought to be ironically personified by the image of a single tender daisy that had been presented as his promise to try again in his chances with her. 

Alastor realised this, and he realised that it was futile. At this point, he did not want to go back to the routine of just going about his day and shoving all thoughts of Charlie to the back of his head to try and ignore it as much as he possibly could. It was mentally strenuous and it wore his patience so thinly. The thought of it bothering him in his lonesome was already making him feel reluctant to be by himself in his empty house. 

So with a sigh, he gave up on any inhibitions that when he walked into his stretch of the neighbourhood, he continued to walk to the house next door. Charlie should be up by now so he saw no issue in getting right up to the door and giving a few hard knocks. 

Alastor stood there quietly, thinking about nothing in particular because he honestly had nothing in mind when he decided to do what he was doing right now. He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking when he walked up to the door, but he definitely did not want too much of the dilemma that came between his two different desires for her. All he knew now was that he just wanted to see Charlie just to quell the thoughts in his mind that were all nothing but of her.

It was only a shame that his thoughts couldn’t be quelled when it was Vaggie who answered the door instead.

“Good morning, Miss Vaggie,” Alastor greeted politely. It was to his dismay that it had to be her in his sight because he knew that there was still a chance that she might pick another fight and threaten to call the police on him for ‘trespassing’, but still he asked, “Is Miss Charlie-”

“She’s not here.”

She certainly wasted no time in throwing the answer out there in her eagerness to shoo him off from the porch. 

“Oh, I see. Well, then… If that’s the case, I’ll just drop by later.”

Alastor saw no need to insist. He wasn’t in a particular mood to find out if Vaggie was lying about Charlie’s whereabouts for the sake of not having to deal with another one of her outbursts that may or may not end up with her threatening to call the police. So he awaited no response and turned to see himself out.

“What’s your angle here?”

He barely made it one step down when her question stopped him. 

“Pardon me?” he asked when he turned to look back at her, seeing her stand with her arms crossed and shoulders squared in a manner that showed a confrontation ready to ensure.

“You heard me.” Vaggie’s entire demeanour was as stiff as a board as she eyed him with contempt of suspicion. “What do you want with Charlie?”

Alastor would have taken the conversation with stride if it weren’t for the fact that he was not too fond of being accused in such a manner. It certainly did not help that she was actually onto something about the matter, of which he did not wish to give any indications that her suspicions even held some basis of fact.

“I just merely wish to see Miss Charlie to make amendments for my behaviour,” he answered with a farce of certainty.

Vaggie, of course, was not convinced. “You really expect me to believe that?” she questioned snidely. “Your charms may have given you  _ the bulge _ for however long you’re playing at this trick, but it isn’t going to work on me.” 

Alastor raised a brow superciliously. “A ‘trick’?” he scoffed, keeping up the pretence of innocence with laced incredulity. “Now, Miss Vaggie, that’s a little bit of a stretch to make such a callous accusation about me. I haven’t done you any wrong to warrant such treatment.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say, seeing as how her lips curled into an ugly snarl as she spat, “Drop the act, will you? You might take Charlie for some  _ Dumb Dora _ , but you sure as Hell ought to think twice if you’re taking me for some  _ flat tire _ .”

Alastor really was not in the mood to get nasty; he was still feeling like crap from the night before and all he wanted was a moment’s peace that he thought he could get with Charlie. But with the way this irritating girl was poking and prodding at him, no doubt it was causing his patience to wear the thinnest it could possibly have been, and simply put, get on his absolute last nerve.

“I know you don’t quite trust me, and I don’t hope on you to ever do,” Alastor replied straightforwardly. It was a fact that he saw no need to sugarcoat, seeing as how Vaggie had done the same with the way she’s always acted towards him. “So if you would excuse me, I’d rather not waste both our times and be on my way.”

That was all he asked for, but of course, Vaggie wasn’t intent on making it any easy for him. Fuelled by stubbornness and the need to act like a  _ bruno _ , she had to shoot back at him. 

“And you better make sure you stay on your way, because you got another thing coming if you think I’m just going to let you waltz back around and show your smarmy smiling  _ mug  _ around here. You’ve toyed with Charlie enough and I’ll be damned if I let you cause a whole lot more  _ bushwa  _ for the both of us.”

Alastor wanted to walk away. He should have walked away. He was not in a mood to argue about anything and he was definitely not in a mood to argue with someone as bull-headed as Vaggie was. He should have just turned a deaf ear to whatever else she wanted to prattle on about and make the first step down the front yard and out of there... 

But it was something in her eyes that made him stop and realise something.

He’s seen eyes of that kind before. He’s seen it on Mimzy who shot it at girls that she felt inferior to, and he remembered how she seemed to blaze with it when she watched Charlie on the speakeasy stage as she sang that ballad with her whole heart to him. He recognised the way it flared, ignited by complexities of anger, helplessness and disgust. It reminded Alastor of the green-eyed monster that Mimzy would become, though sans the green eyes and a much more milder version of it was what made Vaggie now as she glared at him with those eyes. 

These were the eyes of contempt and envy at what one couldn’t have - or in this case, who they couldn’t have.

“Ah… I see how this is.”

That shut Vaggie up momentarily, thrown off by the sudden lightness of his tone. She started to wonder what sort of jibe he had now up his sleeve, as could be told from the way his smile started looking cheeky as well as presumptuous.

Suddenly, Alastor was starting to feel a little ballsy. And as much as he wanted out from this unpleasant conversation, who was he to pass up the opportunity to hit her where it would hurt, especially when she so rightfully deserved it?

“It’s funny, really,” he began with casual thoughtfulness. “To think that some _pachuca_ who’s playing to _put the screws on_ and pretend to not be the _cancelled stamp_ that she is was all just some act to cover up a little jealousy she has.”

And that did it - that shut her up real good. Alastor took pleasure in the way her bravado started falling away, replaced with wide-eyed mortification. Her cheeks started to turn flush red with shame, her stance turning limp with discomposure. It was all too much that she couldn’t seem to hold his gaze anymore and immediately looked down to the floor, and in doing so it caused a few tresses of her dark hair to hang over her face, as if to hide it in her loss of pride. 

Alastor chuckled smugly, not intending to go easy on her. Oh no, with the game she wanted to play of being  _ hard _ , he wanted to hit her exactly where it would hurt like a bitch. 

“Alas, I think it’s a bit too late for you to get in the game, isn’t it?” Alastor drawled, dragging this discomfort out for her as long as he wanted to. “Charlie’s certainly never even considered giving you that time of day, seeing as how she’s already given me the chance to score the prize…”

“ _ Cabrón hijo de perra! _ ”

Alastor might not speak Spanish - a little French, yes, but not Spanish - but he could understand a vulgarity when he heard one. 

Vaggie’s tone was as hard and as sharp as a spear, her words spatting with the same exertion to throw such a weapon. Her knuckles were starting to turn white from clenching her hands into fists a tad too hard, like she was holding back the energy to throw a good swing at him. Her whole form was growing hot with animosity, like the red of rage that was tinting her copper face as her teeth were grit in her snarl.

“I know your game,” Vaggie seethed vehemently. “And I’m not going to let you hurt anyone here!”

_ Pompous, cheesy, talk show shit-lord! _

How she wished she could have said that out loud, but she forced herself to only think it in her head spitefully. Despite the humiliation, there was still enough bite in her to not take this sort of bullshit to let him egg on her face. It was only his luck that she had enough restraint to not run his face into the dirt where that shit-eating grin belonged. 

Alas, this sudden snap did nothing much to Alastor, whose aura of smugness had disappeared and his expression was now blank, even for the smile that remained and only agitated her nerves more. 

Such bravado that the  _ Bug-Eyed Betty  _ dared to aim at him, enough that it tickled his funny bone at just how silly he thought she was for daring to try at him. 

Yet at the same time, it was quite unfortunate that her little  _ ing bing  _ had actually done quite well to fill him with malice that flared white-hot at her insolence. 

Alastor took a step closer, standing right up to her and giving no damn for any respect to personal space. With how he towered over her in height, he easily loomed over her, staring down at her with half-lidded eyes that were uncanny with his grin. 

It was that grin that made Vaggie waver in her stance, taken aback by how it was stretched far too wide for her liking, with his teeth bared like some wild animal that held killing intent.

But Alastor, calm and poised as he willed himself to be, only chuckled.

“Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here…”

When he suddenly brought his face closer to hers, it threw her off completely. She jumped, dropping her front immediately, and took a step back warily. Yet, she could not will herself to look away from his wide eyes that held nothing of the amusement he took in his tone as he muttered gravely under his breath.

“...I would have done so already.”

Vaggie had her reasons to be afraid of how dire Alastor Carlon could be, but seeing this side of him up-close and personal and all by herself, she hadn’t expected herself to feel quite terror-stricken at the way his words were so dangerous and so coated with malice. The juxtaposition of his grin and polite tone did nothing to hide the obvious threat behind those words, making chills run down her back like a cold ghostly nail scratching down her spine. 

A sudden nervousness wormed its way into Vaggie’s mind, distorting that voice of his into something that sounded like a cackle. It made her throat feel dry and her palms turning sweaty. Yet, she could not look away with her eyes locked on his, watching carefully to the risk that he might try to pounce at her like he did with that statement.

Alastor, however, only straightened up his posture and shook his head with nonchalance. His tone was no longer low and menacing, instead now normal as though he had not just delivered some sort of threat.

“But, no! I would repeat; I’m only here because I just wanted to talk to Charlie. And since she’s not around, I won’t waste any more of our precious time and will simply take my leave.”

This time, Vaggie said nothing in retaliation. She only crossed her arms again, though it looked like she was more hugging herself out of uneasiness rather than another show of hostility. She watched with wary eyes that held none of the contempt that she so boldly showed just a moment prior to his subdued act of aggression. 

It made Alastor beam. One would think that it was stemmed from confidence but truly it was pride that bordered on arrogance, because why wouldn’t he be when he successfully put an infuriating pest such as Vaggie in her place? He felt gloatful in the way he’s made her lose the bravado, reduced to nothing but a simpering little fool.

However, it was simply so obnoxious to see her unsmiling that way. So absolutely pathetic.

“Smile, my dear!” 

Vaggie jumped at the sudden contact of his finger under her jaw as he forced her head up so that she would look at him, the tip of his nail gently tickling her chin in a manner that was not friendly at all. It was instantaneously that she was overwhelmed in agitation that gritted her teeth back into a dangerous snarl and her eyes turned into a burning glare that had killer intent. 

She took a step forward with clenched fists that were looking to be thrown at him, but he pulled away just enough to be out of her reach, though leaving space for him to wag his fingers at her in mocking playfulness, a show of dominance that he easily won. 

“You know you’re never fully dressed without one!” 

That remark was given with another malicious grin and the narrowing of evil eyes. But still, as agitated as she was, Vaggie forced herself back and only levelled with a glare of her own, fighting the temptation to get at him and only being held back by her alarum at what had transpired a moment ago.

It wasn’t minded by Alastor, who now fully-turned away and made his way down the steps, amazed that he hadn’t just taken her ugly little head in his hands and snapped her neck right there and then.

That probably would have shut her up a whole lot more quickly. 

* * *

It was a tap on her shoulder that woke Charlie up. She lolled her head to the side to see that Dazzle was holding the door open for her, showing that they’ve arrived at the manor.

She had fallen asleep along the way, since she hadn’t exactly had quite a fruitful sleep the night before. It was a good thing though, for at least it passed the time on the journey and she felt well-rested to begin her weekend back in Baton Rouge. The chill of the cold wind bit her bare legs when she got out, and she felt goosebumps rise all over her skin. She pulled her coat tighter around her as she made her way to the front door, Razzle and Dazzle following in her wake with the former already having her overnight bag in hand. 

Inside the manor was warm, bringing the sort of cosy that made Charlie want to return to her old room and curl up in her bed to bask in the comforts of her plush pillows and covers in this biting cold weather. That would have to wait though, for she couldn’t retire without first greeting her parents. 

While Razzle headed on upstairs to place her belongings in her room, Dazzle led her away in the direction of the lounge, going ahead to give a loud knock on the double doors. It incited an excited ‘Oh!’ to sound on the other side, which Charlie recognised immediately was her mother.

“Come in! Come in!”

Dazzle opened the door and stood aside for her to step into the room, and she did with the sight of both parents rising from their seats and making their way towards her. 

“Charlie!” Lilith cooed happily.

“My darling sweet apple,” Lucifer greeted with a smile.

Charlie closed the distance between them and was immediately wrapped up in a hug by both her parents. “I’ve missed the both of you,” she murmured as she squeezed them both tight. She hadn’t actually realised just how much she had missed them and only now was she slightly soothed in her decision to come back.

It felt nice like this, but the nicety was interrupted when she hadn’t expected the loud voice on the other side of the room that exclaimed, “Oh, how lovely!” Charlie jolted at the unexpected presence that she hadn’t been aware of when she entered the room and immediately swung her head in the direction it came from.

It was there that she suddenly didn’t feel so nice at all, when she saw gathered around on the other side of the lounge was none other than the Von Eldriches.

Bethesda greeted her happily as she strode over with the loud clicking of her heels on the wooden floorboards. Charlie barely had enough time to register before she was pulled into an embrace with a kiss placed on both cheeks. She was still too in shock at the fact that she felt a twinge of dismay hit her gut at seeing the Von Eldriches - and more specifically, the children - here in her family home. Her eyes met those of Seviathan and Helsa watching her, the former with practiced nonchalance while the latter with a discrete grimace. 

“My, how long it’s been!” Bethesda sang. “I didn’t have any time to see you at your father’s party to realise that you’ve grown! And so beautifully too!”

The last remark was made with a quick glance over her shoulder to her son. Charlie managed to regain enough of her composure to not visibly squirm, instead willing a small smile to come to her lips in a polite facade. 

“Thank you, Mrs Von Eldrich.”

“‘Bethesda’, please!” Bethesda chided jokingly with a gentle swat to her shoulder. “We’re almost as close as family here.”

Charlie kept her smile in place even as her discomfort grew and continued the polite act as she walked over to greet the rest of the family whose presence she didn’t wholly appreciate being there.

“Hello, Mr. Von Eldrich,” she greeted as she took his hand for a shake.

“Glad you could make it, Charlotte!” Frederick exclaimed jubilantly. “Hope life’s been treating you well.”

Oh, how she wanted to laugh grimly at what he said. Just when she thought that life couldn't be any more stressful, it just had to throw these sort of lemons at her. Even more so as she turned to face the children. 

Helsa only gave a wave, which was already more than what Charlie would have expected out of her. But surely it was only out of civility from both parents being around instead of the intent to actually give any sort of friendly gesture to her. Charlie did the same and gave a half-hearted wave, and neither girls spoke. 

The yearn to hightail out of the room only intensified when Seviathan stepped in front of her with a polite smile. 

“Charlotte.”

How could her parents think it to be a good idea to call her back home to spend the weekend in the presence of her ex-boyfriend? She was sure that they were very much aware of how not on good-terms either of them was with each other, so why was the possibility that things would be uncomfortably tense did not occur to them in the planning? Now here she was to suffer in a forced state of polite civility for the sake of showing respect. 

“Seviathan,” Charlie said his name in a tight voice, her throat only getting tighter as he took her hand in his to plant a gentle kiss to her knuckles. His lips lingered there, as did his eyes on hers. It made her skin crawl and she looked away - both parents would think it to be out of shyness instead of discomfort. Thankfully the moment did not go on for too long when Seviathan pulled away upon the silent command of a gruff clearing of the throat that no doubt came from her father.

The moment was not given allowance to turn awkward when Lilith suddenly gave a loud enthusiastic clap. “Now that we’re all together - some lunch! Shall we?”

“Oh, let’s!” Bethesda gleefully exclaimed, and so she and her family were gestured out first by the butlers. Seviathan lingered behind for a bit to glance at Charlie with the suggestion that he was waiting for her to come along, but moved ahead when she gave no indication that she would follow. 

It was only when they were safely out of earshot did Charlie grab Lilith by the hand, looking at her with unravelling exasperation. “Mommy, you didn’t mention to me that they were going to be here…”

Lilith frowned with mild disapproval. “Well, I did, Charlie.”

“No, you didn’t! When?”

“Many times when I called you about it, in fact. You didn’t say anything about it.”

She thought back to the conversation over the  _ blower _ to recall when exactly she heard her mother mention that the Von Eldriches would be there, and it was to her dismay that she realised she could barely even remember most of the conversation because of how distracted she had been at that moment. 

With a tut, Lilith patted her cheek. “Now, now. Let’s not have any sour faces, alright? You promised me, and I expect you to at least behave while they’re here as our guests.”

“They’re staying here the whole weekend?!” 

In her outraged outburst, Charlie’s eyes darted from her mother to her father, who was standing aside and just watching both of them quietly. Her frantic eyes silently begged him to tell her that this was all a joke, and that she was not going to be forced to spend time in the presence of the last couple of people she’d ever want to be around. 

To her dismay, Lucifer only held his hands up and shrugged, keeping himself from the conversation for his own sake. 

This was certainly not what she would have agreed to at all! This was supposed to be a couple of days of her taking a break from all the stress she’s been having in New Orleans, but now she rather that than bear with this. Spending a few minutes in the presence of the Von Eldriches was cumbersome enough, so imagine a whole weekend!

However, before she could even phrase a word of protest and announce that she will be turning back to New Orleans, Lilith cut her off swiftly and no-nonsensically. “Yes, Charlie. You can’t expect me to kick them out now, do you? That certainly would put us in quite the bad light.”

Of course, it would be all about the matter of face with Lilith. It only dampened Charlie’s mood even more, especially now that it seemed to shame her quite a bit. She knew the sort of lacklustre reputation that she held within her parents’ circle, and while her parents may not see her in such a light, she certainly did not want her shortcomings to potentially affect them in some way. 

“Charlie. You promised me,” Lilith remarked with a purse of lips, though her tone was gentle with concern instead of displeasure. It only served to make Charlie feel even more conscience-stricken, and ultimately, led her to relent.

“Fine…”

That came as a relief to Lilith, who showed her gratefulness for her understanding with a peck to the top of her head. Unfortunately, the notion did not do much to ease her in her decision to submit. 

“Thank you, my sweet apple. Now, come along. I’m sure you must be quite hungry from your little trip here.”

Her mother then strode off to the door and left the lounge, leaving Charlie alone with Lucifer in a rueful state. “Is it too late for me to go back to New Orleans?” Charlie quietly asked her father, hoping that at least he would understand.

Lucifer only gave her a pitiful look, but nevertheless nonchalantly replied, “You promised your mother, sweet apple. Best not to make her upset.”

Lucifer patted the top of her head comfortingly, but still, it did not make Charlie feel any better about giving in to what was going. When he gestured for her to follow in her mother’s stead, she did so with a sigh of defeat and not exactly having the stomach for lunch, let alone for this little get-together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooooooooo that Alastor and Vaggie confrontation is just *chef's kiss*! Come on, my darlings! Even you would have to admit that a little jealousy and a little smugness is what gives it the kick to be a tad spicy ;)
> 
> And oh ho! Do we have some acceptance on Alastor's end here? It's a shame that Charlie's not there to quell his thoughts, because she's got a whole lot on her plate with the prospect of having to spend time with the young Von Eldrich! Looks like she's not going to be having an easy time as well XD
> 
> I'm having as much excitement fuelled in me to type it out as fast as I can with my not-so-nimble fingers, but we're getting there! It definitely helps with the motivation with all these beautiful fanart from such darling readers, so thank you qraundkk (@graundkk), 5M (@Katahaba_05m) and lovely Danie (@wifeofthesoules)!
> 
> The heat is about to turning up, and there's a whole chance that it will be boiling over pretty soon!
> 
> 1920s slang: 
> 
> Hair of the dog - An alcoholic drink taken to cure a hangover  
> Capers - Crimes  
> Loaded to the muzzle - Full of booze  
> Slopped - Drunk  
> Bleary-eyed - Hungover  
> Canary - Female singer  
> Four sheets to the wind - Get drunk  
> Jam - Problem  
> High-hat - Snub  
> The bulge - The advantage  
> Dumb Dora - Stupid female  
> Flat tire - Stupid female  
> Bruno - Tough guy  
> Mug - Face  
> Bushwa - Bullshit  
> Pachuca - Mexican girl (Author's note: Incorrect, as Vaggie is Salvadoran)  
> Put the screws on - Get tough  
> Cancelled stamp - Lonely female / Wallflower  
> Hard - Tough  
> Bug-Eyed Betty - Ugly girl  
> Ing bing - Tantrum  
> Blower - Telephone
> 
> Spanish translation:
> 
> Cabrón hijo de perra! - You bastard son of a bitch!


	50. Snarks and Ing-Bings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Even when he finally walked away, Vaggie could hear his chuckle linger in his wake. It chilled her to her bones and made her stay frozen to the spot to make sure that he actually went back to his own house, which he did without another look at her. It was only when he was really out of view was she suddenly aware of how hard her heart was racing. 

Alastor was nowhere near her now, yet the impression he left stayed lingering that it almost felt unsettling to be alone in the house right now. So putting on her coat and her hat and bringing along an umbrella for safe measure, she promptly left for the hospital. Throughout the whole way there, she tried to force herself to not think back to the incident. But try as she may, she was unsuccessful, mentally playing the scene over and over again and feeling her stomach tighten even the more she dwelled into the memory.

What exactly was that? Vaggie had known that Alastor wasn’t the nice guy that he always made himself out to be, but the way he got up into her face was not what she would have expected of him. The image of his look was burnt into her mind easily remembering how stony his half-lidded glare was, how wide his teeth were bared like a wild animal ready to sink its teeth into prey, and how dire his voice was as he uttered that subtle threat to her. 

She wouldn’t have thought herself to be scared of him - anxious and suspicious for sure, but not scared. He looked like the sort that she could take on easily should he try to lay a hand on her, but his whole demeanour at the moment was so provoking that he intimidated her into silence with just that look.

Vaggie was relieved to finally arrive in the hospital and be surrounded by the presence of doctors and nurses and patients, feeling safe now that there were people around. But all sense of security was immediately forgotten when she walked into the ward to see that Angel was out of bed, putting on clean clothes that were obviously not hospital dressings. 

“Where are you going?”

Angel glanced at her when she made her presence known, but only gave a purse of his lips before turning his attention back to pulling his slacks on. There was nobody else in the ward except him, so modesty was not of concern to him at the moment.

“What does it look like?” Angel said monotonously. “I’m leaving.” 

He immediately noted the shock and outrage that was showing on Vaggie’s face and he knew what she must be assuming, but Angel only rolled his eyes with a huff. “Relax, will you? I’m not ditching the place. I’ve been discharged.”

“Oh.” Vaggie quickly relaxed at the thought that she wouldn’t have to wrangle him if he was trying to bolt from his stay here. “Did the doctors say you’ve completely recovered?”

“They told me I’m well enough to walk, and that’s good enough for me. Don’t wanna stay cooped up in some stuffy hospital any longer.”

He looked quite the contrary, truth be told. From the bags under his eyes, the way he slouched in his stand, and how the softness of his cheeks have turned gaunt and looked quite sallow, Angel still looked all down-and-out. But if he was affixed on leaving despite his condition, he surely would not be convinced otherwise.

Vaggie knew this and sighed in compliance. “Fine. Then we’d better get you back to the hotel, just in case you need to rest a bit more.”

“Who says I’m going back to the hotel?”

The statement was said in a hard voice that was void of any pleasantry. Angel was not looking at her, eyes downcasted with a frown as he busied himself with buttoning up his dress shirt. His lips remained pursed and were pulled at the corners into a grimace.

“Right…” Vaggie became slightly awkward upon remembering. “I heard that you told her already.”

Angel said nothing. 

The air changed to become so brittle that it seemed like it could snap if another word broke the silence. It was strange to see the usually-mouthy guy was now sullen and aloof in silence, making an uncomfortable and nervous lump to form at the back of Vaggie’s throat. 

“Look, I know you’re upset…”

An interruption in which Angel cursed out loud when he realised he misaligned the button of his shirt. He irately grumbled while unbuttoning them, still not looking at Vaggie at all. She paused for a moment to let him settle himself, then continued. 

“... But it’s for the best. For Charlie. And you know that.”

“What do you know what’s best for Charlie?”

Angel was now sitting on the edge of his bed to put on his socks, asking her that without looking at her but no doubt his attention was on the conversation. Even quiet now, he was still rigid and frosty the same.

Vaggie was taken aback by the statement, frowning at the harsh tone of the question. “Charlie is my best friend,” she reasoned, “and I know when she needs help.”

“Still don’t see exactly how it's ‘help’ by kicking me out.”

“Angel, I know you’re mad. But-”

“What do you care about me being mad?” he interjected sharply in a laugh that was humourless. “In fact, what do you care about anything?”

Vaggie understood the fact that he was upset about what had to be done and wanted to say nothing to grow his agitation, but she could not take lightly to that tone or the reprehension that Angel exhibited. She only wished to attempt a decent discussion regarding the manner, not be treated with irritation and accusation. 

“I care about the situation, and I asked you to do this because I care for Charlie.”

She had thought that he understood. Their lengthy discussion just a couple of days ago had made it very clear that the intention for him leaving the hotel was for Charlie because she wasn’t in the right state to handle the trouble that he had caused with his overdose. He had been hesitant but still he had relented. 

But despite that fact, Angel now smirked cynically with a shake of his head to show that he thought her answer to be a load of _hooey_.

“This is for Charlie,” Vaggie harped on with more conviction, “What we agreed on is purely for her.”

Despite how impassioned she was to stand by her proclamation, it did nothing to convince Angel to sway to her pronouncement. Instead, it only made him finally look at her with pure contempt and disgust with the sneer he gave her. 

“For Charlie, but for what?” Vaggie parted her lips to answer, but was interrupted by Angel again as he jabbed, “Because you genuinely know what’s good to be done about her plan, or because you see her so much as some weak, fragile little _bunny_ that you think she can’t even stand on her own two feet?”

“Excuse me?” Vaggie quailed with an obvious flinch. “Are you being serious right now?”

“As serious as when you told me to fucking leave.” The iciness in his words was as cold as the way he glared down at her. “Keep fooling yourself with the whole ‘protector’ visage you got your head wrapped around, why don’cha. I mean, it’s not as if Charlie can handle anything without her _alarm clock_.”

Vaggie was stunned at what she was hearing. From what she knew of him, he could be brash, but this was simply just to the point of almost spiteful. She started at him open-mouthed as she slowly got over the shock, which was gradually overwhelmed in offense that she felt at the insult thrown at her.

“What the hell are you trying to say? Charlie’s my best friend, and I know her better than anyone else here! I knew she needed help and I did whatever I could.”

Angel snorted ungracefully as he tied up the laces of one shoe. “Keep telling yourself that. I’ve only known her for a couple of months - nothing compared to how you’ve known her for probably years. Which gets me wondering; how the Hell is it that I can see for myself that Charlie’s not some _weak sister_ that can’t take a hit or two?”

It was easily noted by Angel that Vaggie did not answer the question - he could not be sure whether she had not realised it or it may have been deliberate. Either way, she changed the topic entirely with a question of, “You explain to me how is she going to progress with the hotel if people like you aren’t gonna stick to rehabilitation and just make her job difficult?”

Clearly, she was going on the defensive. Still holding up to the idea that what she had done was for Charlie and her progress with the hotel. To that, Angel only waved his hand dismissively with a strong roll of his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s all everyone else’s fault with you. Listen, toots, I’ll be _on the level_ with you and say my brain’s not recovered enough to listen to whatever _jive_ you want to throw right now. I did what you asked, so let’s just leave it at that.”

But Vaggie was not going to stand down - not when Angel was undermining her for her efforts. 

“She opened her doors to you willingly, and provided you with food and shelter with no qualms. The only thing she asked of you - and I too, for that matter - was to try to make an effort to be better. And you can’t even do that! And if you’re going to be so stubborn and take advantage of Charlie like that, I don’t actually see any reason why we should waste time sheltering a sloppy, _chippy_ , _dope fiend_ like you!” 

The heat in her voice was spattered out in time to her heart beating in an unsteady quick pace. Vaggie did not hold back on what she wanted Angel to her, seeing it as simply a statement of fact. If he wanted to be crude, then she would be too. She did feel a twinge of shame when seeing the way Angel balked at what she called him, but she forced herself not to care. She tried to dampen the situation but he forced her to keep adding to the flames. Yes, he had a reason to be angry, but she was adamant that he had this coming and this was the consequences of his actions. She was stiff-necked that this was his fault.

But as fiery as she was right now, Angel did not feel the burn of the brunt.

She’s treating him as if he hadn’t had insults thrown at him before.

She was going at it as if she thought she could hit him where it hurted and make him feel ashamed. 

Sure, they could hurt like a bitch, but in time, words just became words. Insults blurred to mean nothing. He was accustomed to it, absorbing it with skilled nonchalance that came from years of such abuse. 

So, Angel did not feel the burn of the brunt. 

But just because he did not feel particularly affected by it, did not mean that he was gonna let someone mouth off at him so easily. 

Especially Vaggie. 

_…. Keep your head held high, and your ego even higher..._

“Of course, what with the sort of snobbish, goody-two-shoes, judgemental, little _bluenose_ you are, you won’t think any better of the sorts **like me**.”

Before Vaggie knew it, Angel was pushing his face to hers, giving. Seeing the way he looked at her with total anger and heated hate, it actually kind of hurt her. Yes, she took the insult a little too far and it certainly aggravated the frustration he would already be feeling at being evicted. And while she had for a moment thought that she had the right to be mad at him too, she certainly did not feel that now.

“Charlie knew that, and she knew what she had coming when she decided to start this whole stupid idea of a ‘rehabilitation hotel’ in the first place. She knew and she went ahead with it, even when you were just being a _cancelled stamp_ glowering by her side going off at any one who so much as says one wrong word with her. But looks like that didn’t go through that thick skull of yours, did it? That everything she did for the hotel, she did it on her own.”

And suddenly Angel was laughing haughtily. When he was all riled up like this, he could certainly be merciless when it came to acting out of spite. He would give no damn to hitting it where it hurted and would not hesitate to let his mouth run wild, which was probably what prompted him to add salt to the wound.

“Hell, I’ll even say Smiles did a whole lot more for her than you ever did!”

He had been into it to anticipate what might be Vaggie’s reaction, but his reflexes acted quick enough to lean back a few inches when the tip of an umbrella was suddenly in his face. The movement was stiff, but then it started staggering when it was being held in place in the air. This was because Vaggie herself was shaking, the anger that was boiling in her threatening to finally spill over.

“Do not. Do not bring him up. Don’t you dare.”

She wanted to be calm, but the mention of that certain radio host infuriated her vexation. The tan skin of her knuckles faded pale from clenching her hands too hard on the umbrella, her lips downturned into a grimace that hid the teeth that were gritted in an effort to not lash out further. Her tiny frame was hunched as she held the tip of the umbrella to his face, exuding hostility that emanated from her face that was burning red with suppressed rage. 

But Angel just remained standing there all unflinched, though he looked down at Vaggie with almost a sort of pity. She was shaking in her anger that brought the promise of tears breaking out from her like a river against a weak dam of self-control. This was the sight of a girl that believed that she was doing the best for the one she loved, but simply won’t accept the fact that she was in the wrong.

Thus, while he may feel pity for her, he did not give in. Instead, he only levelled her glare with a stony intense gaze that was cold and bitter, unforgiving towards her choices and what her whole bout of self-denial. 

“You’re pathetic, you know that?

Nothing more was said, but nothing more needed to be said when that felt enough for him. Angel wasn’t one to back down from a fight, but even he knew when to throw in the towel when it came to someone like Vaggie. It would all just lead to a dead end or go in circles on who was right and who was wrong, and he’d rather not waste his breath on dealing with someone as unreasonable, bull-headed and delusional as she was. 

“Listen, doll. You think that whatever the fuck you’re doing is all out of ‘love’, but I’m going to tell ya straight.” There was barely a pause for breath or a moment for Vaggie to interject a question before Angel pushed the umbrella away from him and leaned in again, his face dark as he uttered gravely, “If Charlie ever finds out what you’ve done, or about what you think of her, the only thing you can hope to kiss is your chances with her goodbye.”

She wanted to hit him then. A punch, a slap, or even a kick - anything to release the anger that was gnawing her up from the inside. She hated that he had to bring that up. She was regretting the fact that she actually divulged that secret to him when he thought he could be trusted. It was worse that it’s been used against her twice in a row - she refused to think about how much more that smiling bastard’s remark had hurt much more than Angel’s. It gnawed at her crumbling pride and made her feel heated with shame to be treated so weakly using the one thing that was completely vulnerable to her. 

But she did not argue back. All Vaggie did was stare back at him heatedly with clenched fists trembling at her sides, staying where they were despite the need to be thrown. Angel considered her restraint for a moment as the silence engulfed over the prickliness in the air between them, but stuck to his resolve to not argue any longer. 

It was a good thing that it hadn’t escalated to somewhere near physical when his words already packed a powerful punch to shut her up, carefully spoken with an air of finality that showed no matter how hard she was going to go against him, he said what he wanted to say. 

And it was with that finality that he picked up his suit jacket and slung it over his shoulders without putting it on. He was all dressed up and ready to go, which he did walking past a still Vaggie. 

It was only at the doorway that Angel thought to at least give her some closure to the end of this fruitless argument, which he bade with a simple, “ _Ciao_.”

And then he left, refusing another glance at the girl who he’s come to disrespect now, and leaving behind thoughts of the other who he was saddened to be unable to bid a proper farewell to for all that she’s done for him. 

Charlie deserved better for sure, but he wasn’t in any right to say anything about it anymore. 

* * *

The rain did not allow for much to do outside, so activities were kept inside the manor. All relatively simple, with chats over bite-sized food and drinks after a hearty lunch, and… and actually not much of anything else.

How Charlie wished she could just excuse herself to her room and stay there curled up in her sheets until the weekend was over and she could head back to curl up in her bed back in New Orleans. But alas, she could only be bored out of her mind for just sitting on a chair and listening to the prattling of whoever was speaking, which was mostly just the parents. She did not partake much except to reply to questions that’s been asked to her and nothing more else, and the pretense of pretending that she was even mildly interesting was beginning to get exhausting. 

She needed a break.

Without a word, Charlie got up from her seat and headed out of the lounge. Both Lucifer and Lilith noticed her leaving and exchanged a look with each other, but neither parent decided to stop her. Lucifer did think that she did the right thing in excusing her from this dull talk session and wished he could do the same, but rather not at the risk of getting an earful from his wife.

But someone certainly was interested in ensuring that his daughter was alright. Lucifer watched as Seviathan shot a few wondering glances to the entryway before he too silently got up and slipped out of the room. 

The young Von Eldrich wandered through the hallways. He wasn’t quite familiar with the manor yet since this was only his second time being here before he returned, but he was mindful to respect the boundaries of being a guest by not heading up to the second floor where the bedrooms were. It was a good thing that he didn’t have to when he turned at a corridor and found Charlie standing there looking out the window. 

“Charlotte?”

Charlie did not smile when she looked at him, her gaze blank as it had been in her little state of daydream. She looked neither pleased or displeased as he approached, so Seviathan would take it as at least an amicable sign. 

“Mind if I join you?”

“I came here to be alone, actually,” was her sullen reply. 

“It’s only for just a bit.”

Of course, she didn’t expect him to listen to her, but gave no answer and only turned back to look out the window as Seviathan took her silence as an assumed invitation and walked over to her side. He was at least mindful to keep a considerable amount of space from her and did not immediately go into a conversation, instead looking out the same view. 

In the quiet that was only filled with the sound of heavy showers outside as the raindrops splattered on the glass windows, Seviathan observed her form. She was hugging herself as she stared at the multitudes of water droplets falling down the glass, looking lost in thought as she did. Her gaze seemed far away, lost in thought over something that seemed to be bothering her. 

“How’ve you been, Charlotte?”

A few seconds passed before there was a low sigh. “I’ve been better,” Charlie answered quietly, her reply contrary to her words. 

“Well, that’s… good to hear.”

Charlie nonchalantly hum, not having enough energy or a damn in her to chide him in lacklustre response. She could already foretell that he would be the one seeking her out if she were to put any distance between them, so she already long begrudgingly accepted the fact that she would be stuck in his company for the next couple of days. Even so, it did not warrant any necessity for her to make niceties when not under the watchful eyes of both their parents, so she remained respectfully quiet. 

“You’re not all that enthusiastic about us being here, are you?”

So much for remaining respectfully quiet. 

“Was I that obvious?” Charlie chuckled with no heart in the notion.

She saw no point to keep up a pretence since the parents were not around to witness it and Seviathan was already well-aware of how ‘chummy’ she was to both him and his sister. She did not make it sound unfriendly though; more like a statement-of-fact.

“I’m sure my parents are oblivious to it, but it’s come to my attention,” Seviathan replied casually. “And while I understand that you may not be so thrilled, I would hope that we could maintain a form of amicable civility, at least in the presence of our parents.”

“That’s what I’m doing, aren’t I?” Charlie retorted calmly. “I don’t have any intentions to let my own grudges be an issue to them.”

Seviathan nodded once in understanding. “That’s good. But I had hoped that there could really be no hard feelings between us in particular.”

A twinge of discomfort twisted Charlie’s gut, making her shut her eyes and release a long sigh. “Seriously?” She wondered if he must have so much disregard towards her to still want to attempt this. 

“Yes, Charlotte. Seriously,” Seviathan affirmed. To emphasise his point, he took a step closer to Charlie and gave her a soft smile that did not really seem to touch his heart as he said, “I want to let bygones be bygones, and I want us to start afresh. I know that we can set our difference aside and do just that, if only you would be so kind as to give me another chance?”

The respectable distance that was maintained between them did not stop a shiver of revulsion that ran through Charlie, especially when he held a hand out to her with an expectant look. She did not want to act too out-of-turn or be rude in her adamant rejection, but she couldn’t help herself at the audacity he had in that look to assume that she would actually give in to him. Even more so when Seviathan tried to place a hand on her shoulder. His touch was not what she wanted or needed at the moment. 

“Seviathan, I would say I’m flattered, but please,” Charlie replied steadfastly, unwavering in the firmness to her decision. “I’m not interested in you anymore and neither am I keen on the idea of even being ‘friends’ with you.”

True to the vanity of Seviathan Von Eldrich, he did not take that rejection - probably the most prominent one since their break-up - too well. His smile vanished immediately just as the ‘earnesty’ in his eyes hardened to mild outrage. It was almost so awkward how he withdrew his hand and folded it with the other behind his back as his posture straightened. He looked absolutely stiff and rigid while gazing hard at her with unamusement. 

“Well, that certainly isn’t… pleasant.” Charlie could almost hear the snarkiness that was threatening to break through straining the nicety that he was trying to maintain. “I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. Your choice of ‘friends’ now certainly is quite curious, like that fellow of yours.”

Wow, this conversation truly was turning from bad to worse. 

“I see no point why you have to bring Alastor up,” Charlie retorted sharply. 

“Because I can tell you’ve certainly taken quite a fancy to him, Charlotte.”

While Seviathan may be inconsiderate, he was sharp. But Charlie was not willing to divulge that information so easily, pretending as if she had not actually been thinking of Alastor as well while she had been staring out the window. 

“Even if it was the case, it’s not exactly any of your business. Besides, I have more important things to be thinking of, mind you.

“Ah, yes,” he replied nonchalantly. “That ‘hotel’ of yours.”

“Yes, Seviathan. The hotel that I very easily recall you considered to be potentially another failure in my books.”

It didn’t come as a gentle reminder to Seviathan that it was exactly what he considered when they last spoke about it at her father’s party, but he was uppity in giving his unwanted justification. 

“Charlotte, even you have to agree that the idea of a ‘rehabilitation hotel’ is quite… ‘far-fetched’. No proper society lady would think to waste time on such an endeavour, especially if it concerned such less-than-stellar individuals. Besides, need I remind you of what happened with all the rest of your projects?” 

Too involved in his speech that he did not realise Charlie’s hands balling into fists and her jaw rooting tightly. 

“And honestly, the sort of company you surround yourself with doesn't do you any good too. You and I are the same; raised in the ritz of elegance, polished and given opportunities that serve to better us in our society. Are you really going to taint all that, just because you feel sorry for _hoods_ and have a liking for the lower class? That friend of yours doesn’t even play with stocks!”

The fact that he was actually trying to do a low-blow on her by bringing up her past string of unsuccessful endeavours and her choice of company - it fueled the fire that was burning slow inside of her. The haughtiness as he delivered the back-handed insults in the put-down made her break in her resolve to stay calm. Charlie didn’t even want to say his name now with how much it tasted like bitterness on her tongue and it was with that bitterness that she shot back at him with the fervour. 

But to be fair, he had it coming. 

“Goodness, how dense can you be, Von Eldrich? You really think that I’m just some _weak sister_ that’s swayed by promises from a _high-hatting_ snob such as yourself? That certainly isn’t a good look on you, and is definitely not doing you good in hiding the fact that you are simply talking out of your **ass** all because of a little ego-bruising from how I’m more interested in a middle-class radio host than you!”

Seviathan only stared as if Charlie had just grown two heads. It was like he was trying to comprehend what had just happened, like he was trying to realise that she had outrightly insulted him like he could not really believe so. Her? Soft Charlie Magne? Cursing like a _bell-bottom_. It was almost funny how he looked so wide in disbelief that he faltered for a second or two before recollecting himself with the weakest comeback yet. 

“If I can be quite frank - I wouldn’t take him as being your type.”

“And what exactly is my type, Seviathan?” Charlie pressed irately, the sharpness in her tone and words never dulling as she spat, “Arrogant, pompous, with a touch of conceited?”

“Excuse me?”

That came from someone else just then, making them both turn to look at who had just walked in on their little spat. However, Charlie already knew and wanted to almost groan out loud upon seeing that it was Helsa. The nasty frown on the other Von Eldrich’s face confirmed that she had heard the last couple of things that were said and she wasn’t too happy about it. 

“You certainly have a lot of nerve to be talking about my brother like that, don’t you?” Helsa seethed as she stomped up right to Charlotte, about to get in her face if it wasn’t for Seviathan swiftly placing a hand on her shoulder to hold her back. “You got a lot of mouth for a loser at everything she does!"

Charlie was more than ready to bite back just as hard. “Well, if your dear brother here was not being exactly so, I wouldn’t have to throw out the facts if it was going to bruise both of your precious little egos.”

Helsa surged forward again with full intention to dig her nails into any part of Charlie, but again she was forcefully reeled back in by Seviathan. 

“Helsa, leave Charlotte be. Need I remind you that she still is our host and I would rather not have you embarrass us and our parents.”

“ **‘Embarass us’?** ” Helsa was baffled and livid at being reprimanded by her brother when she was only trying to dish out some well-deserved comeuppance. His audacity towards her forced Helsa to roughly swat his hand off her and jab a finger right at his chest. “The only thing embarrassing here is watching you getting _flat shoes_ with this little _Dumb Dora_!”

Helsa’s outburst was met with another swift scolding from her older brother. Soon, they were both too distracted in going at each other’s throats to notice how Charlie returned to looking out the window and had fallen back into a sullen silence. She was already exhausted dealing with the irritating brother, and had so little patience left to not turn to that nettlesome girl with teeth bared. 

She felt so stressed and upset, and understandably so. So much for taking a trip back home to have a proper rest from all the troubles back in New Orleans. Why hadn’t she just listened to her gut and just left to go back there? And at this point, just anywhere else and nowhere in particular. Anything to get away from these irksome siblings and not have to do with the rest of this god-forsaken trip. 

But then the exact reason suddenly called out for all of them in a sing-song voice. 

“Oh, children!” All three of them turned at the distant call from Lilith. “I hope you aren’t having too much fun without us. We’re certainly missing you here!”

Her mother’s voice reminded her of her promise to keep, which she was still intent on upholding. But if she could be honest to herself, that intent was seriously hanging by a thread right now. 

As much as Charlie was not keen on going back to sitting around and being bored of her mind, that was a whole lot less loathsome than being alone in the company of these two insufferable siblings. Both siblings watched her not regard them with another word as she strided away from them and turned around the corner, leaving them in the wake of her icy antipathy. Seviathan sighed in resignation, where Helsa rolled her eyes with repulsion. 

“Of all the _bims_ you gotta be hung up over, it had to be her.”

Seviathan silenced her with another sharp look and soon they too left the scene, leaving the air behind them still lingering with bitter strife. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snarky remarks, ing-bings and a little bit of a close cat-fight! This is what happens when you put too many outspoken young and angry kids together! Such quality drama!
> 
> And I apologise for the slight delay on this chapter. I have 2 papers due next Friday and my whole academic year depended partly on these drafts so this had to take a backseat for a couple of days. But it's done and up and we can get preeeeeety interesting next chapter!
> 
> As always, before I go, I want to give a shout-out to all you lovelies who started reading Smiling Man and blessed me with such beautiful fanarts! So, thank you lovely 3月 (@ryuj_6)! I love your Razzle, Dazzle and Charlie!
> 
> When I say that the next chapter's getting exciting, I mean it gets REALLLLLY exciting. 
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Bunny - A term of endearment applied to the lost, disoriented  
> Alarm clock - A chaperone  
> Weak sister - Pushover  
> On the level - Be honest with  
> Jive - Unpleasant talk  
> Chippy - Promiscuous  
> Dope fiend - Drug addict  
> Bluenose - Prude  
> Cancelled stamp - Wallflower  
> Hoods - Criminals  
> High-hatting - Snubbing  
> Bell-bottom - Sailor  
> Flat shoes - A fight between a couple  
> Dumb Dora - Stupid woman  
> Bims - Girls


	51. All Boiled Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Angel could only bide his time for so long. By nightfall, he knew that he should already just face the inevitable. 

When he arrived at Valentino’s, the _goon_ at the front desk looked at him a certain way but said nothing as he slid the hidden door open to the rooms. The faint squealing of sex was the first thing he heard, making him feel at home yet at the same time like he was walking into the lion’s den, which felt exactly that way as he made his way to Val’s office.

He contemplated the whole day if he should even do this instead of hightailing out of New Orleans to save his ass from a trashing that he was sure he was bound to receive the minute he would get into Valentino’s line of sight. But where could he run to, and with what? He had nothing on him anymore - no shelter to go to, no money to tide him by, and nothing to get him feeling even remotely safe.

 _God, this sucks…_ Angel thought to himself in dread as he finally stood in front of the doors. He only gave himself a quick few seconds to take a breath and calm down the racing of his heart, then thought to fuck everything and raised a hand to signal his arrival. 

But before he could knock, the door was thrown open. Angel jolted, taking a step back out of reflex to put some safe distance between him and the pimp. However, his anxiety quietened down slightly when he saw who was on the other side.

“Angel?!”

In a quick instant, Cherri threw her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. The force knocked the wind out of Angel but he paid no mind to the importance of breathing as he too wrapped his arms tightly around the smaller frame of his best friend.

When she pulled away, it was to hold his face in her hands to look at him with concern. “Fuck… Where were you, Ange?” Taking note of how sickly he looked, the concern grew into worry. “What the hell happened to you?”

A hard lump came to his throat and Angel felt guilty at seeing Cherri so worried. She was the last person he was with last night and he was sure that she must have been fretting over his whereabouts and well-being. But as much as he wanted to reassure her that he was here and he was fine, talking about his state could not come to the forefront of his mind when he remembered why he was there for. 

“Is Val-?”

“‘Is Val waiting for a fucking explanation’? Because you bet your sorry ass I am.”

There was no way to run now that Angel was finally face-to-face with Valentino. He was glaring down at him so sharply that he looked like he was about ready to cut a bitch up right there and then. It made Angel’s palms sweaty and his throat dry as dread sunk into him, shutting down his ability to react accordingly. He wanted to run or beat the living daylights out of him - either would do - but his body betrayed him by not acting upon it. He stayed fixed to the spot and stared up at Valentino’s glare. 

“So… where the fuck exactly was my star employee, hm?”

Angel’s reply came out in a strangled mutter. “Hospital… OD-ed.”

He did not miss the way Cherri’s face dropped upon hearing that, and he wished so badly to just be able to reach out to her and hug her to find what little bit of comfort he could in this tough spot. But one wrong move could lead to an immediate _pasting_ from the irritable pimp, so he kept to where he was. 

Valentino, of course, could give less than a shit. Surprisingly though, instead of the mouthing or a beating that Angel was dreadfully expecting, all that was responded was an irritable sigh.

“You’re lucky I ain’t got the time to deal with your sob story right now, Angel,” he answered disdainfully. “Voxy here’s eager for Cherri to get on with her ‘special service’.”

On cue at the mention of his name, a third figure appeared from behind the pimp. Angel immediately recognised him as the man who had been there the night he nearly took a glass to the face. The man only gave a blank stare in greeting, so Angel did the same before his attention shifted to Cherri. 

It was then Angel realised what Cherri was wearing. Garments of fine silk that were draped on her to show the right amount of skin and the perfect view of cleavage to cause a stir, clinging to her body to perfectly accentuate the curves of her _chassis_ . It didn’t look like what she would normally wear ‘on duty’, but Angel knew that there was no way she could afford such finery with the sort of _kale_ they earned, even if it’s on a good night.

What sort of ‘special service’ involved her dressing up in such beautiful _glad rags_ and having to be escorted by their pimp and his strange friend? Angel ruled out a threesome between them because, from the way their stances were, it was obvious that Cherri was going to be presented to somebody important that could be affiliated with the two men. But if so, then who?

“Cherri?” 

Ignored by the two imposing men, Cherri was obvious in looking like where she was about to go was the last place she wanted to be in. It made Angel quite iffy about where she could possibly be taken to, knowing that it wasn’t going to be good if the usually brash Cherri looked _on the edge_. 

But he couldn’t reach out to her when Valentino planted a hand on his shoulder and roughly pushed him aside to make way for himself to walk, while also pushing Cherri ahead of him to get moving. Angel started to feel a bout of panic and wanted to move to get to her, but he was stopped by the sharp glare that Valentino threw at him. 

“Get to fuckin’ work, Angel,” his pimp seethed maliciously. “You owe me overtime.”

And that was that before the pimp turned away to push Cherri to walk again. Valentino’s friend barely even glanced at him before following the two in their stead, leaving Angel to stare at their backs in anxious concern. Cherri only managed a look over her shoulder - she looked scared and pleading but remained quiet nonetheless - before disappearing down the flight of steps. 

Angel wasn’t sure what was going on, but he didn’t like it one bit. It only made him feel even more like shit to know that there wasn’t much else he could do, submitting his pimp’s commands and only able to hope tomorrow to come sooner to make sure that Cherri was alright. 

* * *

Charlie thought that maybe a call home would help to ease her up. 

Well, who would’ve thought that it would actually make things a whole lot worse?

“... He didn’t even say goodbye…”

On the other end of the line, Vaggie respectfully kept quiet. As much as she regretted having to spoil Charlie’s mood with news of Angel’s untimely departure, she knew that it was better than prolonging the inevitable. Still, the heartache sounded clear through the telephone line and Vaggie could almost imagine how her face would fall.

“... But he’s okay though, right?”

How far did Charlie’s good graces go that she would still have genuine concern towards the fella who had caused her so much trouble? It baffled Vaggie to see how she was still maintaining the patience of a saint and making her feel a tad bit more guilty.

“ **_He’s okay as he can get,_ ** ” Vaggie replied gently. “ **_A little frail, maybe, but he could stand on his own two feet again._ **”

“But does he have a place to go? Do you know where he might be going?” 

Vaggie didn’t have the answer to that since there hadn’t actually been time to ask when they had their little spat this afternoon. It was with regret when she answered, “ **_No. He didn’t say._ **”

“... Oh…” The call between the two girls fell into a lull of sadness, and Charlie said in a despondent sigh, “I think I have to go. I’ll drop you a call later before I head to bed, alright?”

While Vaggie felt discomfited to end the call knowing that Charlie was down in the dumps once more, she couldn’t think to imagine how she would have been if she knew the real reason why Angel left or the fight that had occurred that afternoon. Throughout the call, she kept his specific words of warning about Charlie finding out pushed to the back of her mind, even with how it felt like it was going to hammer through to get to the front of her thoughts and make her say it. She was resolute in keeping her lips shut about it, of course. Besides, from Charlie’s tone-of-voice, Vaggie could tell that she didn’t really feel up to talking anymore, and she let it go.

“ **_Of course, hun. I’ll talk to you later._ **”

An exchange of goodbyes before Charlie put the _ameche_ back onto the stand. Just as the quietness of her lonesome started to seep in, she nearly slumped against the wall, not crying but feeling like she was going to break down. 

_..Why?.._ Charlie thought woefully to herself. _...Just why?... It’s problem, after problem, after problem…_

“Oh, Charlie!”

And now came another problem. Charlie didn’t really have the will to want to be anywhere else now except to go back to her bedroom and curl up in her bed to cover herself in her duvet and cocoon herself from all the problems that seemed to be plaguing her like diseases in the air. 

Unfortunately, she had a dinner she promised to go to. 

“Coming!”

Her answering tone hid the despair that was evident on her face. Charlie knew it would raise much-unnecessitated concern towards her predicament, so despite how tired she was and much too deep in the doldrums to not be able to ignore the ache she felt inside, she gave herself a few more minutes of sucking in a deep gulp of air before heaving it out quietly to fix her composure back into place, begrudgingly making her way to the dining room with even less of an appetite than the nothingness she could stomach. 

* * *

It was night time when Alastor woke up. 

The quiet stillness in his room was broken by his sleep-laden groan. His whole body was heavy as he forced himself up to sit on his bed, rubbing the sands from his bleary eyes as his conscience started to restart itself through the foggy haze.

Alastor couldn’t believe that he slept through the entire day. He thought that the Cafergot that Niffty gave him would have helped to wake him up, along with the few cups of _java_ he downed right after getting home from that irritating confrontation with the _pachuca_ next-door. He can’t seem to recall much else after that because everything was a blur to him but he knew he had gone to lie down on his bed to rest his head. He most certainly hadn’t anticipated being knocked out for nearly seven hours.

It was a good thing that today was a free day, else it would have made such a huge bad impression on his near-stellar record with work - wouldn’t want the boss to be after his guts for causing more trouble other than leaving him to deal with a mediocre radio host. Still, it was a free day gone completely to waste.

The tiredness in his mind thought that probably he should just go back to sleep since it was the appropriate time for slumber anyway. But with how he was slowly waking up, he knew that it would have been futile for him to attempt to go back to a snooze. Tired grogginess aside, his body was rested enough for its liking though it could use a little stretching out of the aches in his joints from being immobile for too long.

It took quite a bit of sheer will, but Alastor managed to get himself out of bed and down to the kitchen, rewarding his effort with a much-needed glass of water. The house had been so quiet with inactivity thus far that even the soft gulps he took seemed like it was loud and breaking the peace. 

And by then, the peace was completely shattered with the sounding of knocks on his door. 

Alastor hadn’t had a chance to take a proper look at a clock but even he could tell that it was a little too late for somebody to be knocking at this time of night, making him wonder who could that be. Aside from the visit from Husker just that week ago, he couldn’t really think of who else could it be that would be, and the notion was so strange and peculiar.

“Hello? Are you home?”

A girl?

What was a girl doing out here in the middle of the night and knocking on his door? 

Had he been more awake at the moment, Alastor would have thought twice to find out. But as tired as he was, and as mentally exhausted he had been from feeling like he’d been kept on edge for so long, he thought nothing more than to get up from the kitchen table and head right to the door. As surprising as such an event was, it was definitely just as much when he answered the door and saw who it was.

“Huh? You’re the -”

“Err, hi,” was the quiet response given by the prostitute from the other night. 

It was definitely the same girl but there was something quite different about her. She looked cleaner this time. Much more refined. She wasn’t donning the cheap rags that were usually affiliated with a worker of the streets, but a dress of fine satin that clung to her well-endowed curves and dipped low enough to show the prominence of her cleavage. Even her make-up was cleanly done, highlighting her freckles that were not hidden by her long tresses of hair.

Such a peculiar eye-catching little thing she was, which had Alastor asking, “Can I please know what you are doing here at my house?”

He’s never heard of a hooker actually going to a person’s house on their own volition, and seeing as how she was dressed completely to the nines, he knew that this visit was intentional. So he was right to be pretty _hinky_ at what was going on, with his scrutinising seemed to be making the girl even more nervous as she muttered an answer. 

“Oh, I’m here because…” She wasn’t sure how exactly to put it, except to say, “...Unfinished business.”

Even confused as he was, Alastor did get the gist of it. “I made it clear that I wasn’t interested that night. And I’m still not interested now.”

She had been expecting that answer for sure, but for some reason, she still pressed, “Yeah, I know… But it’s just…”

Oh, that’s right. Alastor hadn’t actually paid her that night when he had been too in a rush to get her to leave so that he wouldn’t continue further with an absolutely stupid mistake that he had been about to commit. Sure, he didn’t go all the way to use her service, but he did use up part of her time in bringing her over to his house and giving that massage and just remembering it sent a disgusted shiver running down his spine and made his gut twist in discomfort. That made him not want to say anything more, only just wishing that the girl could be out of his face so that he wouldn’t need to keep remembering the way she touched him and how disgusting the gesture had felt in his moment of weakness. 

“Look, I don’t want to waste your time,” Alastor told her in a strained voice as he started to inch the door to close slowly. “I’ll pay you double your rate but I don’t want anything in return. Just take my money but please just go away.”

But before he could make the step away to find his wallet, the girl interjected. 

“It’s free-of-charge, actually. Courtesy of Valentino.”

That seemed to do the trick in getting his attention because his eyes that had been evading her the entire time suddenly flashed right to her so quickly that it stopped Cherri still.

For some reason, instead of confusion like what she had expected, there was something more puzzling in the way he looked at her. It was like there was something about the mention of that name that seemed to weigh him down and she couldn’t be too sure if it was because of fear or apprehension or something else - maybe a mixture of many feelings that she could not tell from his unreadable gaze or his fake smile.

As if Cherri could not have been apprehensive enough, the man suddenly seemed to relax, his smile growing up the apples in his cheeks, his lips parted to show teeth already set in a grin.

“Well, in that case…”

He trailed off but there was no refusal that followed when he opened the door wider, stepping aside to give her space to come in. It was like a switch had been flicked when the smile on his face started to stretch up to the apples of his cheek. The man actually started to look somewhat excited, if she had to put it in a way. 

Cherri knew that she had him in the bag at that moment. But while she had one part of the plan down, there was something about it that did not feel right, and for the umpteenth time since she had agreed to the deal, she was feeling that sensation of regret coming back to her. 

Unfortunately, she knew she couldn’t back out even if she had wanted to. She forced herself to not look to where she knew the car was parked somewhere down the road and took a step inside to keep up her end of the deal.

* * *

There was laughter over something Frederick had joked about. What it was, Charlie wasn’t sure. She couldn’t really be bothered to find out. She was barely even picking at her food throughout the dinner, only forcing a few mouthfuls of steamed carp to not bring about too many sceptical stares towards her. She was not in a mood to down it with wine as the rest of them were, though she supposed she should have to ease that aching inside her.

Charlie blatantly ignored the gazes that Seviathan was giving her from across the table. He still wasn’t far enough to her liking, but at least it was better than being next to him because she was sure that would have made her a whole lot more sicker. At least there was a distance to bear the weight of his stares and made it a whole lot easier to ultimately ignore his eyes. Even more so to the irritating side-eyes that Helsa cast her way, but the girl seemed as content to mostly ignore her as she did. None of their parents knew the little spat that all three of them had earlier on and it was better that they did not know. 

Charlie could only handle so much drama in one day, with news of Angel’s departure not making matters any better. Goodness, this was turning out to be one of the most exhausting days that she’s had in a while and it was a miracle that she was still able to be sitting at this dining table and putting up a facade of normalcy. She felt drained, even more so with having to pretend to be feeling at least moderately fine for the sake of the company. 

“Don’t you agree, Charlotte?”

“I’m sorry?” Charlie asked with dull politeness. They could tell that she was distracted but she did not explain herself. She only turned to look at Bethesda with a demure smile in asking her kindly to repeat herself. 

“We were just talking about how cute you and Seviathan were together the last time.”

Oh, how she wished she hadn’t asked. 

Bethesda only carried on cluelessly. “You two had looked so good together! There was so much chemistry that Frederick and I were wondering when you two were going to decide to _get to the middle aisle_. Just imagine; the Magnes and the Von Eldriches united. That would have been a match made in heaven!”

Lucifer and Lilith kept up smiling pretences despite how uncouth Bethesda was to have brought the subject up like that in front of them, their courtesy only hiding their shared thoughts on what exactly the Hell was this woman thinking. They weren’t the only one to share that sentiment, it would seem. Seviathan was already darting his gaze between his oblivious mother and Charlie, weighing out that the situation could only lead to many unpleasantries. He was ready to quell the conundrum that would occur, but he didn't know how to because he couldn't gage Charlie's reaction. 

She was still and blank, her face unreadable with her eyes, a far cry from the usually animated and feisty Charlotte he knew. 

“Of course, we don’t wish to pressure you! What’s happened has happened and we’ll move on from it,” Bethesda assured with a tinkling laugh, trying to brush off the obvious suggestion like it was just a mere joke. “Although, Sevi here is still ‘in the market’, and I bet that you-”

“You can have my answer now; no.”

There was so much strong emphasis on the ‘no’ that it was effective enough to force the room to suddenly fall into silence. Now, everybody was staring at Charlie, with Bethesda frozen in shock with how the younger woman was looking at her dead in the eye with not even a hint of amusement or civility - just a simple cold stare. 

When her husband cleared his throat rather awkwardly, the Von Eldrich matriarch snapped out of her stupor. Bethesda started ‘laughing’ with such flatness that her attempts to quell the awkward moment just seemed so pathetic to the still unamused Charlie.

“I see!” she replied too overtly-jubilant for her half-hearted smile. “Well, looks like I may have been a bit too direct! Do forgive a scatterbrained old lady, Charlotte.”

‘Scatterbrained’ was definitely the right term to use, seeing as how it was unfortunate that her discomposure caused her to run her mouth a little more than necessary, which led to the fatal mistake of saying, “Besides! I’m quite sure that you must be pretty busy with that silly hotel-”

“‘Silly’?” 

No one but Charlie knew of how patient she had been since she first stepped foot back here, of how much she could only depend on her own self-control and the regard she held towards her parents who were watching her with growing unease. 

But honestly, patience could only last for so long, and she was just so sick and tired of hearing another _jive_ towards her precious hotel, and it was enough coming from one Von Eldrich.

“What’s 'silly' is the fact that you really think that I’d be even the tiniest interested in your son with the way he is,” Charlie retorted sharply, giving a quick sneer to the son in question before directing her heated gaze back to his mother. “And it’s even more silly that you think your little sickly-sweet pleasantries would really play me like the fool you think I am.”

“Excuse me?” Bethesda gasped offendedly, but that did not deter Charlie to stop.

“You heard me. Do you really think me that stupid to think that I wouldn’t know what’s been said by you and others the likes of you behind my back?”

“Charlie.” Lilith’s voice came as an attempt to interrupt the conversation that was clearly getting out of control, but she was ignored. 

“Charlotte, dear… I think you have us quite mistaken,” Bethesda said with a small smile that did not lighten up the growing animosity within the girl. "We don’t think of you in such a way, we just -”

“Please don’t act coy with me. I know very well what’s said between people like you when I have my back turned.”

Now, it looked like she wasn’t the only one to want to put her two-cents in, because Helsa just had to butt in!

“As you should!” Helsa seethed venomously. “Look at you with all your stupid ideas! You honestly think you’ll ever have a place with people of our status?” 

Charlie, fuelled by the growing vexation, retorted back, “Oh, yes, yes! Again with the whole ‘Charlie Magne’s a _Dumb Dora_ ’ line you keep bringing up like it’s the most ‘heartbreaking’ thing I’ve ever heard. Don’t you have any other _jive_ to shoot that could actually make me cry like looking at your puckered face does?”

It took a moment of taken-abackness for Helsa to try to sputter out some insults in return, but Charlie continued to fight back with the vigour of _Chicago lightning_ that shot at her with the intent that could probably put her in a _Chicago overcoat_. It prompted Seviathan to finally get up from his seat to loudly demand his sister to behave and Charlie to calm down while his parents looked onto the scene with shock and the Magnes watching the fiasco unravel in outrage.

“Lucifer!” Lilith snapped urgently under her breath to her husband, expecting him to do something to stop the situation once and for all. How it infuriated her that her husband seemed content to simply sit back and watch where Charlie was going with this outburst, even casually swirling the wine he had cupped in his hand as he continued to spectate quietly. 

It was Frederick who tried to step in, patting his hand on the table loud like a judge calling a court to order with the hit of a gavel. “Alright, I think that’s enough, ladies,” he admonished firmly to his wife and daughter and Charlie. “We’re all planning to have a good time, so how ‘bout we quieten down and pretend any of this wasn’t brought up, _ya follow_?”

‘Pretend’? How could Charlie so simply let this be swept under the carpet as it’s always been done to her? She was angry, and the anger came from pent-up frustration that culminated from all those years of being shunned and ridiculed and belittled and was painstakingly added on by the terrible events of just today alone. It was all so easy for them and she wasn’t intending to let any of them have it easy when they’ve never done the same to her.

“Oh, sure! Let’s ‘pretend’! Let’s just 'pretend' we’re all such ‘model elites of class as high as the Ritz’ instead of just a bunch of arrogant, conceited, toffee-nosed bunches of **bullshit** -”

“ **Charlotte Magne, that’s enough of you!** ” 

The loud ringing of Lilith’s voice brought the whole room to silence, everybody staring at the matriarch of the Magne family whose entire demeanour commanded respect and order. Even Lucifer seemed pressed against the backrest of his seat at seeing his wife so angry, her patience having finally been worn thin enough that it finally snapped. But Lilith paid no mind to the way everybody was staring at her when looked hard at her daughter’s face that was trembling in anger.

“I want you to apologise to the Von Eldriches for this inexcusable behaviour of yours,” she instructed firmly. It wasn’t a request but a demand - one that she expected to be heeded if the sheer disapproval that marred her features was anything to show for it. 

And somehow, that was what really did hurt Charlie. The Von Eldriches and their behaviour had nothing on her the way Lilith glared at her with so much disappointment, reminding her of how it felt that she had disappointed enough people as it was. It made her think of Angel and the look of pity he gave her when he told her that she needed to stop doing so much for people when she got so little in return, and now leaving her with one less guest than when she first started, which was none and only served as a bitter reminder of what exactly the people at this table - her father included - thought of her.

A disappointment. 

But… it wasn’t as if it was anything she wasn’t used to.

And honestly, she just couldn’t find it in herself to give a single damn about it.

_… Keep your head held high, and your ego higher..._

“I’m sorry.” 

It wasn’t a genuine apology. It was just an apology for the sake of apologising, because there was nothing else that could be said that could possibly salvage the situation. Charlie had no interest to be remorseful of her behaviour, seeing it justifiable on her end after having to deal with all this goddamn _high-hatting_ bullshit from people the likes of them. Simply put; she’s had enough, and just wanted nothing more than to leave.

So, she did. 

Everyone else at the table watched as Charlie got up from her seat and roughly threw her napkin onto her plate of unfinished food. With a sharp turn and rough push of her chair aside, she stormed out of the dining room, ignoring the calls of her parents as she made her way not to her room but towards the front door.

As she had expected. Razzle and Dazzle were out with the car to give it one final wipe-down before retiring for the night, but both of them paused when they saw their mistress stomping towards them in her approach.

“Take me back to New Orleans.” 

Her command was firm as was her stride when she moved past them to head to the passenger door, getting in promptly without waiting for them to answer. A few seconds of fuming and only after did she realise that both of them hadn’t gotten into the car. They were still standing outside with hesitation on their matching faces. 

Charlie was impatient, yes, but she did not want her rudeness to be directed at them. Heavens know that the Von Eldriches already bore the brunt of it like they so deserved, but her butlers did not deserve that from her. 

“Please, boys?” she asked pleadingly. 

They couldn’t actually hear her since she was inside the car with the doors closed but the look on her face said it all. Both boys gave another uncertain look to each other, both unsure of whether to do it because it was getting late and the rain was about to pour soon and it would definitely not make the Magnes happy. 

However, they could tell that their mistress did not seem to be in a good state to stay here at the manor and they felt compelled to help her. So it did not take much haggling for both of them to get in the car and drive off, just only missing the appearance of her parents and their guests at the front door calling for her name. 

The ride was silent since they pulled out of the driveway. It was right out of Baton Rouge and halfway towards New Orleans that rain started to fall with a force as heavy as hail, hitting the metal roof of the car and bouncing off in ricochets. The speed they had been going at began to steadily decrease to keep safe on the dark slippery roads. While Charlie understood the need for care since she would rather like to make it back home in one piece, she was still impatient all the same.

When they finally reached New Orleans and to her neighbourhood, the rain had calmed down somewhat. It was still falling steadily but it it wasn’t quite sure if it would pick up in heaviness again. Charlie felt so bad when Dazzle got out of the car first and got drenched in the process of hurriedly opening up an umbrella for her to stay dry, but said nothing but ‘thanks’ to the fruitless gesture because the rain was still quite heavy that she too was getting wet. 

Dazzle walked her all the way up to her front porch, giving a kind smile and bowing in farewell before making the trek back to the car and getting double-drenched. Charlie remained where she was, watching the car pull away from the road and out of the neighbourhood, before she was finally left alone to thoughts that thundered like the dark skies above. 

She was home and she was finally away from the catastrophe that was the dinner. But while she had expected it to be a huge relief that she could finally be away from the presence of the people she loathed, she somehow could not find it in herself to relax. She was too worked up, too fuelled by agitation and sadness and anger to find the calm within herself now. And she sure as Hell was sure that she wouldn’t find it going back into the house and accidentally waking up Vaggie to a state of concern that she felt she did not need. 

Charlie needed someone, and she knew exactly who. 

She was already quite wet anyway, so she didn’t give two damns when she walked right out into the pouring rain. It didn’t take more than a few seconds to feel her clothes - from her coat and right down to her undergarments - sticking uncomfortably to her body, the wet cold seeping in that she could feel the chill injecting her bones like icy needles. It was somewhat painful to be pelted bare by the multitudes of rain but still, Charlie did not stop to reconsider or turn around, continuing on the path until she skirted around the fence onto the front yard of the house next door.

The lights weren’t on but that did not stop her from going up to the front door to knock. There could be a chance that he may be out, but she was hoping for the slight chance that he was at home and asleep in bed and that he could hear her knocking. She knocked softly at first, getting more urgent the longer she had to wait. She really did not want to seem too much of a nuisance towards him, especially at this time of night, but she didn’t care.

“Alastor?” she called out. “Alastor? Are you home?...”

Silence.

“... Alastor…” 

A few more knocks and a few more calling of his name, and still, silence.

“...” 

_Oh, goodness..._

How familiar this felt. How so painfully familiar. So familiar that Charlie wondered if it may end up the same - with her knocking on the door for so long and calling out to him in desperation, only to be met with silence that was cold and uninviting as it had been the last time. 

She wanted to wait, to hold on to that last shred of hope that there could at least be something good to happen in the last couple of days. Something to finally break the streak of bad luck that seemed to follow in her wake. If she could have at least this, it would have been enough. 

But it would seem that life did not want to be fair with her for the time being. And with the silence that continued from behind the door, Charlie felt the last bits of her hope snuff out just as the tears finally started to fall. 

She forced herself to pull away from the door, knowing it was foolish to stay there and be left unanswered all over again. She didn’t fancy going back out into the rain and getting pelted with cold and harsh water drop again so quickly, so she stood at the edge of his porch and put her hands to her face to finally let out everything that’s been choked up inside. 

Charlie sobbed into her palms with the loud and erratic downpour drowned out the sounds of her muffled crying, while also doing the same to the sound of the door opening urgently behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything's boiled over and Charlie is simply not giving a shit anymore! Screw everyone and screw everything, and she's doing what she wants and that is to head straight to Alastor! But it seems that our beloved smiling man is quite 'busy', doesn't it? Our girl Cherri's got Angel to go back to, anyway!
> 
> Apologies for the delay in this chapter but having your creative juices strained out of you from two assignments due consecutively really does a number. And on top of that, a certain fiasco in the fandom kind of necessitated the need for the update to hold for a bit to allow the dust the settle. I hope everyone who's been involved is doing okay - please know that as much as it really blew out of proportions, your efforts in your content is recognised and appreciated and loved, and we will all be able to learn and move forward together~
> 
> I hope you guys are having a well-deserved break from the trouble and please make sure to get your mental health prioritised. I'm having a little bit of a slow time to make sure that the events of everything around me isn't going to affect the quality of Smiling Man's chapters, and I hope to still be able to deliver as always! Before I sign off, a huge shout-out to the lovely darling UL-ORA (@oglxB3LqfeI8UJy) for their amazing SM fanart! Brings back so much memories!
> 
> Stay safe and keep loving, my darling readers! We've got a pretty EXCITING chapter coming up ahead ;)
> 
> 1920s slang: 
> 
> Goon - Henchmen  
> Pasting - Beating  
> Chassis - Female figure  
> Kale - Money  
> Glad rags - Dressy clothes  
> On the edge - In a precarious position  
> Ameche - Phone  
> Pachuca - Mexican girl  
> Java - Coffee  
> Hinky - Suspicious  
> Get to the middle aisle - Get married  
> Jive - Unpleasant talk  
> Dumb Dora - Stupid girl  
> Chicago lightning - Gunfire  
> Chicago overcoat - Coffin  
> Ya Follow - Understand  
> High-hatting - Snubbing


	52. In The Eye of the Beholder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT AND MILD MENTIONS OF CANNIBALISM (Sexual content begins after '***'. Please skip to the next '***' for continuation, but story flow remains the same!)

“Charlie?”

Alastor was so confused. What was Charlie doing on his doorstep in the middle of this terrible rainstorm of a night looking all soaked to the skin and teary-eyed?

She must have not been expecting him to answer the door when she had called out for him the first few times because now she looked genuinely shocked at his appearance, taking in his dishevelled state of dress in a plain undershirt and cotton pants. 

Charlie realised that he must have been asleep with the way he looked quite mussed-up and immediately felt bad that she had disturbed him from bed. Soon, she was also starting to feel quite embarrassed that he had to see her looking like a drowned rat, and she wanted to stammer out a quick apology and a half-assed excuse to take her leave through a lumped throat.

“Goodness, what are you doing? You’ll catch your death of cold!”

The worry in his alarmed tone threw her off, even more so when Alastor had already taken a step to reach out to her and gently took her by the arm to usher her into his house. She was barely able to register what was happening until she was already inside a dark foyer, which lit up immediately when he switched the lights on. 

“Sit,” Alastor instructed her firmly as he led her into the living room and beelined her to the couch, where he pushed her down to sit with no mind that she was getting the cushions wet. “I’ll get you something to dry off. Hold on.”

He already left the room and headed up the stairs before Charlie could try to answer him again. Just as quickly as the sound of fretting filled the room, silence began to set back into place and surround Charlie as she sat still where she was. 

So this was Alastor’s sitting room. 

One could probably tell a lot about a person from the way their living room was decorated, and it was obvious that Alastor must be the sort to not receive many guests to entertain if the room itself was quite unornamented. 

Still, she didn't really expect it to be so barren. There was barely anything aside from the couch and a worn armchair around a coffee table in front of a fireplace. Even the walls were empty with no pictures or paintings or any decoration, unlike her own. It was strange to think that a man that was generally so lively in character lived in such simplicity that was so homespun.

But then she shook herself out of such thoughts. What the hell was she doing judging the decor of his living room when she’s here sitting on the couch and getting the seats all wet? More importantly, why wasn’t she able to focus on more important things, like the fact that she was actually here inside his house and she had disturbed him from his sleep just because she felt like she needed to see him? 

Or the fact that they were alone in his house?

The padding of footsteps came into earshot and it wasn’t long before Alastor reappeared through the doorway with a single towel. Only now did Charlie realise that he had his glasses on when he hadn’t before, looking much more put-together than when he had answered the door. She reached out for the towel but Alastor actually sat down right beside her and put it on the top of her head, not hesitating to start drying her himself, being gentle with rubbing her head and wiping her face.

Charlie did not speak as he took care of her, becoming lost in the fuzziness of her messy mind that led her to a memory that had long been forgotten up until now and was somehow mirrored to now, which made her laugh quietly.

Alastor stopped in surprise at her peculiar reaction. “What?” he questioned with gentle confusion, finally breaking the silence in the room.

The sound of his voice relaxed Charlie enough for her to give a small barely-there smile and shake her head. “‘Just thought it’s a bit of a laugh that the first time I get invited in, it’s gotta be like this’.”

His words from a time that seemed long ago came to clarity in his Alastor’s mind and now it did seem quite the giggle that this was exactly the same situation as it had been the first time he was invited to Charlie’s, albeit the roles are switched and this time it was him who was drying her off. 

“So, it would seem,” he chuckled in return, his smile tilting just a bit wider. 

However, when it had been a bloodied state for him the last time, it was in tears that Charlie was in to warrant this mirrored situation. He didn’t want to tell her that it had been quite bad to the point that it ran her mascara all smudged down her cheeks, and it was definitely not because of the rain. 

“What happened, darling?”

Charlie’s smile disappeared immediately when that question brought her back to the reality of the situation. And to be honest, she wasn’t sure if she should even tell him. What would it get her? Pity? She did not want pity, especially not from him. It was pitiful enough that she had to decide to look for him in the sorry state that she was in. 

But it was a gentle touch of fingers to her cheek that convinced her to be honest, because what good would it do to her to keep it all in now? 

She was tired of holding everything in. 

So very tired. 

“It’s just one mess after another after another.”

Alastor remained silent and waited for her to continue.

“You ever think to yourself that things are probably going wrong because the world’s trying to tell you something, but you don’t want to listen?” Charlie asked without looking at him, leaning into his touch until her cheek rested in his palm. “And that’s why it keeps spiralling out of control? Because that’s how it’s been like, for some reason.”

While Alastor did not fully get the context behind why she would suddenly say such things, he resonated with it. He sure did know a thing or two about things going wrong and spiralling out of control that the mutual understanding made him want to snort indignantly at the thought. 

But this wasn’t about him right now. It was about Charlie. 

“I don’t know how to help you, dear.” 

The bluntness did not mean rudeness for he was simply being frank in unknowing what to do to console her in this difficult time. Charlie understood that and her response was frank but concise.

“I don’t want to impose. Please don’t think of it that you have to help me. I’ve always done things myself. It’s tough. It’s difficult. It makes me want to pull my hair out and cry like a little girl. But I’ve always been able to do things.”

Despite her dispiritedness, the confidence that Alastor always knew was a fixture of herself started to come through. That confidence that was hard-won but fixated deep in the core of her iron will, constantly being poked and prodded but remained stubbornly steadfast under layers of hard-headedness and resistance. The confidence that took fear and hopelessness and crushed it under determination and resilience, raw in its vulnerability but ferocious in its yield. 

“Tell me what I can do for you now, at least.”

Charlie was tough and Alastor admired her for that, but he did not want to have her sitting there thinking that she needed to deal with things herself when he was by her side. 

But when her hand fidgeted and looked like it was trying to reach out for him, he started to feel very strange then and thought that he might even be starting to lean away from her, actually withdrawing his fingers carefully to place it back to his side. However, when Charlie held back and kept her hand firmly placed on her lap, relief was surprisingly not what he felt when he kind of wished she would have just gone ahead with trying and how he regretted pulling away from her.

“Just… I just really want to be with you, right now. That’s all.”

Surprisingly, Alastor chuckled.

A flush of heat went through Charlie, unsure of whether it was embarrassment or anger that he was laughing at her for saying that. But when she dared herself to look, she realised that his laugh was mirthless as he shook his head despondent with his smile that was blank. 

“But why?” he asked her in disbelief. “After all I’ve done to you, why do you still look for me? I’m not any good for you, Charlie.”

Well, he did have a point. A point that if it were brought up a few weeks ago, Charlie would have agreed wholeheartedly. And it made her think; was it really right for him to be the one for her to go to? With his eccentricity that had been enough to give her a whiplash, could she really find in him stability from the craziness she had to endure?

But then she thought to herself; a lot has changed over the past few weeks with Alastor. And just yesterday things had hit a turning point when he admitted his wrong for not being honest with her about his feelings. And if him helping her get Angel to safety, apologising for his mistakes, and promising to try again was anything to go by, she was inclined to give him another chance instead of sticking firm to a belief she had when she had been angry.

“With whatever you’ve done, probably. But I don’t think you’re completely a bad person.”

Alastor, however, snorted. “That’s because you don’t know.”

Charlie would think that she had already gotten most of her anger out of her system with her little barb with the Von Eldriches earlier on, but Alastor saying that caused a trigger in her from frustration that’s been so deeply rooted inside her since he said it the first time.

What was it that she did not know that was so important for him to have restrictions regarding her? Did he not already confess that he had feelings for her as she did him? What else was there? Something about his past? Something that made him have this dire thought of the supposed ‘effect’ she had on him? What could it be that it would seem that she did not have the right to know?

Well, whatever it was, it incited just enough bite in her to argue back. 

“Does it really matter if I know or not?” 

Charlie delivered that question in exasperation, and it was not what Alastor had anticipated hearing. He was expecting a furious ‘why’ or even a demand to know what he meant by that. But when it was a statement that came with adamancy, it looked like his wit was not as sharp as it had always been, so dulled that it made him look at her in shock. 

“You don’t understand, do you?” Charlie continued on morosely. “You may have your secrets but I would never pry if it meant respecting your boundaries. Unless you want to come clean that you don’t see anything going on between us, I would be willing to wait for you to open up to me.”

“And if it was something I could never bring myself to confess to you?” Alastor asked back immediately, an urgency lacing his words as if he really was intent to hear what she would say.

It didn’t take long for Charlie to consider the question and give him an answer. “Then until you do, I’ll keep waiting.”

Alastor was - simply put - at a loss for words. Staring into those bright eyes that showed fierce devotion, his heart was silent as his tongue. It was like she was speaking a language that he could not understand - or more like, he couldn’t understand. For her to say such a thing out of her heart even how much she’s been getting  _ in dutch _ , it took a lot of guts and a lot of goodness that he could never think anyone could possess - but ‘anyone’ wasn’t Charlie. 

It made him break, and if he wasn’t sure if in a good or a bad way. 

“Charlie…”

His gentle voice quelled the ferocity in her tongue. “Alastor?”

Alastor’s lips parted in silence while he considered the words sitting on his tongue for a second, wondering if it would be right to tell her.

“I don’t think I can keep myself away from you anymore.”

The restraint that made his voice tight as he told her that did not fit with that sentence. It sounded like he was more in pain to say it, so to hear that did not bring a sense of relief to Charlie, and it only brought back an achingly familiar awkward silence that befell on them and grew too uncomfortable for Alastor’s liking in the wake of the words that left his heart heavy. 

The silence settled over them once more, bringing with it an uneasy tension that was immediately suffocating the sensitive atmosphere. Alastor tore his unsettled eyes away from her and glanced away morosely, refusing to meet those precious eyes that seemed to lure him  _ over the deep end _ . He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and held the towel he took away from Charlie’s head in his hands, grasping at it nervously with the inclination of wanting to grab something much firmer and lot less fragile but forced himself not to because it was Charlie and he simply could not bring himself to do that. 

“Stay here,” he said to her sullenly, getting up from the couch to get out of the sitting room and away from this troubling subject. “I’ll bring you something to warm up, and then I’ll take you back home.”

That would have been the end of the conversation that he felt dispirited to have, but when nimble fingers suddenly held onto his hand, it would seem that Fate would be cruel and not let him walk out of this one just yet.

The touch sent his brain going off into a tizzy with desired reactions of dilated pupils, a racing heart, his breathing turning laboured, and the urge to either flinch or swat that hand away because he wanted so much to do without any more distress. But Alastor carefully kept such inclinations with as much restraint left in him because he did not want to  _ take any wooden nickels  _ and do anything to harm the precious doll who was holding onto him. 

Still, it was excruciating for him to turn back to see the way Charlie was looking at him. 

Her eyes told him to stay and insisted it with a tug of his hand back down to the couch. It was like he was hypnotized by the hold her gaze had on him, for Alastor could not resist and followed her motion, seating himself back down right next to her. His hand stayed within her grasp and he still did not attempt to pull away, letting her hold it firm in her pretty hands like how she still kept looking at him. 

It was clear what Charlie wanted to say through her gestures - to stop running and to tell her what needed to be heard. There was enough beating around the bush happening between the both of them and if it was supposed to mean anything at all, it needed to stop right now. 

But it can’t happen without Alastor’s willingness, which she so desperately wanted if for the sake of actual proper closure between them. And it was as if something in her knew that there was something he needed to say and she was hoping that she could somehow convince in her silence for him to do just that. She truly had no clue what else she could do to coax Alastor except to plead in her silence. 

And it was the earnest in her doe eyes that he’s always been so weak for did Alastor realise what he needed to do. 

There was no more running from this. 

He was tired of running.

"Don't you want me?"

"I've never wanted anything so badly."

It sounded like a confession. Charlie thought maybe she was overthinking it too much, but his earnesty said otherwise. It did not help that he was looking at her so helpless - helpless to himself, as if he wanted to do something that he wasn’t supposed to do. There was desperation that was so like that day they kissed in the rain when he told her that she did not know what she did to him or how he sounded when he told her he should have been honest about his feelings with her. If what he was saying were true, there was still something holding him back, and Charlie did not want any holding back any longer. 

Which was why…

Alastor’s had a few chance encounters of heart-stopping moments as of late, but he thought that none would compare to the way Charlie’s lips were suddenly on his. 

Her kiss was as soft as a whisper and moved gently against his still unmoving ones. She didn’t seem to realise that, too lost in the moment that she threw herself into. Kissing him made her start to forget all of the problems that’s been happening. For once, her heart was not racing, beating slowly in time with her want to not let this moment end. Holding him by his face and feeling his jaw cupped in the palms of her wet hands, she felt like she was finally anchored in this stormy sea of troubles. 

How lost she was in that one moment of security until clarity returned to her when she pulled away to look at him, seeing him gaze at her in a way that made her realise the err of her ways. 

She wanted to run. She wanted to hide. She wanted to scream out loud. She wanted to cry. She wanted to do all sorts of outlandish things because just how fucked in the head must she be to do that? She had touched him knowing he did not like to be touched. She had kissed him like it was the most sanest thing for someone as forlorn as her to do. 

“I’m sorry, Alastor… It’s just… It’s because… I…”

Charlie felt so lost. She didn’t know what to say. Would it have been the right thing to keep speaking though? Probably not, but the words were beginning to choke her up and make her tongue feel uncomfortably heavy. She grit her teeth to try to stop them but her lips trembled as her tenacity wavered in her wish to just utter those words… 

“... I love you.”

Alastor’s words did not waver. There was nothing to indicate fear or hesitation or despondency, only certainty as he uttered those three words that had Charlie completely stunned.

She stuttered for a moment, looking at him in silence that dragged a bit too long as her thoughts tried fast to properly process the significant grip that those words said in his voice had on her. The cold she felt from being out in the rain washed away as she felt warmth radiate from within her, heating her up so bashfully in confusion at whether or not this was simply a farce, because it couldn’t be that he had actually professed to her - could it?

But the look in his eyes, however, brought the promise of realness that assured her that this was real, that he had said it, and that he felt the same as she did. 

When Charlie returned to his lips, this time he met her with the same yearning that had afflicted them both. In the first few moments of soft caressing, it turned into a relentless hunger as Alastor savoured the kiss that it drew her breath away. They kept pulling apart and taking heavy shaking breaths to still the daze they found themselves falling under, but it was quick that they now could not hold back control and found themselves locked by hands in his hair and on her waist as they kissed with newfound vigour. 

Charlie’s not quite sure how exactly she ended up being carried bridal-style up the stairs, but her arms were already around Alastor’s neck and hugging him close with their faces were so near that they could feel the warmth on their breaths that expelled through heated lips. Neither said a word but their eyes gazing into each other spoke things that did not necessarily need to be said.

She knew where this was leading too and still, she felt nervous anticipation hit her when he pushed open the door to his bedroom. It was dark and only lit by the faint light of streetlamps that streamed in through his window, partly illuminating Alastor’s face as he laid her gently on the bed like she was such a delicate thing. He followed by her arms pulling him down with her and hovered above her, his eyes searching hers like he was looking for something - anything - to give him some sort of sign of what to do. 

But in both their eyes, there was only need. 

It was slower this time, much more languid and a whole lot more tender. There was no rush, no urgency to get off so quickly, nothing that was fuelled by the burning vigour that alcohol would bring. There was nothing charging their high except just the simple taste of each other’s lips and the feel of their hands on each other’s body. His hand found a place on her hips and his fingers pressed gently into her body, holding her to him. In the midst of their kiss, Charlie’s hands ran down his chest until they found the edge of his shirt and there was no resistance from Alastor as she pulled it off him.

But when her hands pressed to his chest, the smooth jagged scars came to her touch and forced a moment of clarity onto the both of them. Both stilled - Charlie from surprise, Alastor from apprehension.

“...Charlie…”

Alastor had completely forgotten about this one setback and was now overwhelmed with nervousness that was quite uncharacteristic of him. His gut dropped with shame of having her see his body in such a state, so self-conscious of being so marred that his clouded eyes closed shut like he could not look at her right now. He already felt vulnerable as he could be, but this was absolutely testing his composure that was beginning to break from the inside. 

So Charlie cupped his face in her hands and her thumbs gently stroked the ridges of his cheeks, the notion soothed him enough to bring his gaze back to hers and find her looking at him with the most loveliest eyes he had ever seen. 

If Charlie had been pliant, she would have released her hold on him and moved away, apologising ruefully for putting him in any form of discomfort. But she refused to submit this time because she wanted him to know that it did not matter to her. How blemished his body was, it was still wholly him, and she showed that she would still cherish him in the way she brought him back for a kiss. And the more she worked her lips on his, the more she felt the tension that took hold on him fade, and it was gone when his hands started to roam her body with newfound urgency. 

Her soaked dress finally slipped off over her head and her underthings followed, and finally she was left with her damp body bare to be pressed against him. She was still quite cold but Alastor was warm, and they shared heat that intensified as his kisses grew in persistence. So delicate yet so ardent, so soft that it felt like whispers, so hot that it left her skin burning. It was making Charlie feel faint as her breathing quickened, drawing out sighs of pleasure that only urged him further. 

His lips brushed tenderly down the curve of her neck with a trail of warm kisses in its wake, hands brushing over the swells of her breasts with fingers brushing her pert nipples. Charlie tilted her head up just so he could get an expanse of her flushed skin for her to cherish more with his lips, letting him hear the pounding of her pulse as blood coursed rapidly through her veins, the scent of her sweet fragrance that radiated stronger with her bareness, the taste of her warm perfumed skin that was so delectable and so intoxicating and so… so…

_...Delicious _ ...

Alastor could feel it - that irksome feeling that had plagued him with the direness of his little dilemma with dear Charlie Magne. It made him fret so badly internally and he felt like he just wanted to snap and curse at the air at whatever higher power had decided to play such a sick joke on him like this. 

Why must things be so complicated when it concerned her? Why couldn’t he just decide for one or the other? Why was it that his heart and his mind had to betray years of putting himself on a strict regime of keeping himself in check and not letting himself be victim to such frivolities of amorous desires? Why could he just not decide whether or not he wanted to just fucking devour her like the meal he had always wanted her to be? 

That familiar stirring of hunger that brought the need to feed the cannibal that was his other half. Her scent clouded his conscience, making him imagine what she would taste like on his tongue. Would she taste as sweet as her fragrance? Would she be soft on his teeth? Would her screams fill the air like music to her ears?

Alastor wanted to know. It was almost like he needed to know. And to do that, all it would take was…

…  _ Just one little bite… _

“...Alastor…”

His name expelled in a breathy moan stopped him with his lips parted and his teeth grazing her skin. The feel of his canines pressing against her sensitive jugular must have incited that sound of pleasure so erotic that it stirred his core with lust that overpowered his senses once more, hungry now to hear such sweet sounds that his little darling could make. 

Alastor would have been appalled to realise how quickly she had turned the tides once again to have him go through such inner conflict, but he suddenly couldn’t give a damn at the moment to that when he really just wanted her in the most physical sense. The hand on her hip pulled her closer to him and trailed down the extent of luscious thighs that found itself wrapped around his waist. Alastor lined his body with Charlie’s as she had him wrapped by her limbs and pulled him down for yet another deep kiss that grew ardent with what was to come. 

***

But any fogginess of lust in her mind cleared when she felt a familiar hardness prob at her entrance, giving her just enough breathing space to take in his half-lidded eyes that seemed dazed and confused but still held that desire that burned furiously and reached its highest inferno when he finally pushed himself in.

Charlie whimpered at the sudden fullness as she felt herself stretch in areas that had been so tight it was almost painful. It incited small cries of pain and she wriggled to ease some of the discomfort. Alastor took notice of her whines and gently caressed her hair and was still in her to allow her to adjust. 

“Shh, darling,” Alastor cooed comfortingly to her ear. “I’ll be gentle. Just… Just give me all of you.”

Why would he need to ask that when he’s always had that since their first night together? She could think of no other hands to touch her or no other lips to kiss her the way he did. No one else could have this effect on her like Alastor has. Just a touch and electricity surged through her like fire that threatened to burn her to ashes, only to bring the promise of reigniting the more he held her like this. 

When Alastor kissed her, the pain went away and her heart became full. The kiss was deep, steeped in adoration that overwhelmed her. With this kiss, came the promise of real yearning that’s been growing in both of them for far too long. With it, it told them that this was inevitable, that they’ve held back long enough, and there was nothing else they would want more than how they wanted each other. 

They broke away to allow space for breathing that was inhaled sharply when Alastor started to pull out just the slightest bit, and then came as a loud gasp as he thrust back in. And as he took her, the more animalistic self kicked in at the heat of her walls swathe his member and the delectable sight of her writhing breathlessly beneath him. That familiar inner carnal desire that was like hunger but of a more sensual sense immersed his conscience and he lost himself to revel in that sensation that was so passionate, so intense, so intoxicating. 

This gorgeous sinful creature who had him addicted much more intently than the shedding of blood or the taste of flesh could ever do. It was such a scary thought when he wondered to himself how he would be able to be without her, making him grow an immense want to live for her and wanted to continue his days with knowing this beauty. He lost so much of his sanity aching for her that he wanted nothing more than to be lost in her, to feel her in every way humanly possible and savour her existence in his arms. 

So lost was he in Charlie as she beheld him with eyes full of passion and wonder, and of love. This was the crescendo that they’ve been waiting for after all those agonising weeks and she knew in her heart that this time would bring no inhibitions. And even now, she was sure that her feelings for Alastor were as clear as day. 

Alastor was her release, her escape, her only certainty in this chaos. He was all she wanted and probably all that she would ever need. With him, it felt like two of them against the rest of the world. With the way they held each other, it felt like they were one and there was nothing that could keep them apart despite whatever life throws at them. She wanted him in every way. She wanted his smile to be just for her, for his hands to be holding her like this all the time, for his lips to kiss her and make her feel that everything will turn around and it would all be alright. 

If this was what love was supposed to be, Charlie had no idea she would long for it so much to the point where she could not bear the thought of losing him when he made her feel so complete. 

Such a beautiful thing, what they had together.

So full of intensity and passion and love. 

A love that burned as white-hot as their shared release. 

Alastor’s last bit of clear conscience acted quickly and he pulled out just as he felt the dam being broken with a loud strangled gasp. It was almost vulgar, the way he was painting her skin white with his essence, but it was the release he needed after so long of forcing himself into denial from this. He felt weak but so be it, trembling as the last bits of his essence spilt out of him and overwhelmed him in exhaustion that had him collapsing on top of his lover. 

Their breaths mingled. Her heart fluttered inside her chest, while his pounded like it was threatening to break free. The high of their shared ascension to the peak of their consummation rendered both heaving messes that pulsed and clenched with shivers of pleasure in the aftermath of such a loving union.

***

“... Alastor…”

Alastor could not call her name in return, breathless and panting hard into the curve of neck as he drank in oxygen and her sweet perfume deeply that was almost forcing him back into intoxication that elevated the high. He was barely aware of Charlie's hands slowly trailing up his back until they were running through his hair and stroking his short locks, caressing him soothingly.

“Alastor…” Charlie sang his name in a gentle whisper. “... I love you…”

Alastor released a shuddering breath he did not realise he was holding despite having been gasping for air just seconds prior. Hearing those three words in her lilting voice was so tender and so gorgeous and so bittersweet in turning him weaker than he already was as he took her into another deep kiss, even when he was unable to comprehend the feeling that blossomed in his chest.

It felt like salvation.

It also felt like torment.

The wonderment sat in him as the rain continued to fall steadily outside, steady as Charlie’s breathing that began to relax, ebbing her mind to relax from their beautiful chaos as she fell fast asleep nestled in his arms. 

Alastor, on the other hand, couldn’t find sleep coming up to him. Staring up at the ceiling blankly, he trailed his fingers up and down her arm, creating a lull that soothed Charlie into her deep sleep. The whole time, the room was filled with the fall of rain and Charlie's quiet sleeping breaths, but it was drowned out by the inner noises that swam in Alastor's thoughts. He couldn't determine what he could really be thinking about though, because there were just too many things happening in one night to comprehend things properly...

...

Ah, that reminded him. 

His movements were slow and careful as he removed himself from her, sliding off the bed so gingerly that it made no creak as he got off. Charlie exhaled a sigh and shifted slightly, but nonetheless remained asleep. She was deep in her slumber and it was clear that she was tired, and Alastor would want her to just rest. But while he would have liked to stay with her in such a comforting cocoon of warmth with the blankets and her bare body and as much as he loved the moment that her unexpected appearance brought, he had to remember much more pressing things to settle.

Charlie did somewhat come at an unfortunately inconvenient time.

There was still the mess in the basement to clean up. 

* * *

“How can you be sure??? I couldn’t see shit with all that rain!”

Vox was pacing back and forth in front of Valentino while irately smoking a  _ cancer stick  _ to calm himself down. It wasn't really working, to be honest. 

“Of course, I’m fucking sure!" he exclaimed with eyes wide and frazzled. "I bumped into her on my first day here, remember?! And I'd recognise that  _ iron  _ anywhere! That’s the same one that the boss sent my dogs to the cargo train on!”

Sitting on the edge of the couch, Valentino was not frantically walking about but he was by no means suffering any less of the  _ heebie-jeebies  _ than his companion was. The drink in hand was shaking with the same pace as his bouncing knee, and sips turning into swigs turning into gulps wasn’t doing him any good in calming himself down either. 

“Don’t you think it’s a bit hokey?” Valentino exclaimed with uncheerful laugh accompanied by a rough running of fingers through his hair. “I mean, what are the odds that ol’ Lucifer’s daughter would actually be Alastor Carlon’s neighbour and she’d go over to his house in the middle of the fucking night?”

Saying that out loud did make it sound like a whole lot of  _ hooey  _ because that sort of situation really had to be the slightest chance of such crazy coincidences coming together at exactly the right place and the right time for it to be witnessed by both Vox and Valentino with their very eyes. 

“Pretty fucking zilch,” Vox agreed with a teeth-baring grimace, “but looks like it’s still a pretty slim chance if that’s exactly what the fuck just happened!”

Alright, who were they kidding? That was certainly what had happened. 

“Argh! Fuck this!”

At his outburst, Vox urgently butted out his cigarette on the ashtray and was suddenly storming towards the door. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” Valentino called after him

“Finding a  _ blower  _ ASAP,” Vox called out from behind him when he got past the door. “We can’t keep our  _ traps  _ shut about this!”

That had Valentino near flying out of his seat, the glass of liquor falling forgotten to the floor with no shits given to the stain it would leave on the expensive carpet. The only thing propelling Val forward was the thought of their own graves being dug. 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” the pimp yelled at his friend’s back as he chased him through the hallway, ploughing through anybody that had the misfortune of being in his way in the corridors. The rest who were quick to press themselves up against the wall could hear him shout, “He’s gonna blow our fucking heads off if he knew we’d just let his daughter walk into that fella’s house in the middle of the night!”

“Well, what do you suggest we do, huh? Pretend like we know from nothing and not give him the  _ rap  _ about his daughter?” Vox seethed harshly. “That’s his only daughter, Val! His precious little girl! We can’t just let him  _ know from nothing _ !”

Vox had a fair point, but the way their little game of watching-and-seeing was spiralling out of control was bringing too many things to complications for Valentino to think about a proper course of action. 

“And what about my bitch?! She didn’t come out of that house and unless he’s planning on having a  _ ménage à trois  _ with Lucifer's little girl, I’m not even fucking sure she’s even still in there!”

“Would you rather she be  _ kicked off  _ or we do?”

“It can go either fucking way!”

“Yeah, sure! But I’m taking the lesser evil here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AFTER...
> 
> 24...
> 
> CHAPTERS...
> 
> ...THEY FINALLY CONFESS.
> 
> AND KISS AND MAKE-UP WITH A LIL FLUFFY SMUT. 
> 
> This really be a long time coming but it's all the peak of all the bullshits that they've been going through and what they brought to themselves XD But finally, it would seem that desperation pushed them over the edge and into each other's arms! 
> 
> But hark! Looks like they have a little trouble brewing on the horizon. A very unfortunate chance of circumstances is never too far. But who knows? They might have their little piece of heaven for the time being, so they ought to cherish it for as long as they could (before I start being a bitch and ruin things again heh...)
> 
> Alas, dear readers! I hope you're all are having a swell time and I hope that this chapter's able to ease the lot of you! Sorry for taking so long to get to this point, but again I thank you for still sticking by me in this crazy rollercoaster ride that (as I would say before) can only get crazier! Also! I would like to thank the amazing darling  
> Huangman (@huangman_7) for their lovely sketches of the past SM chapters and I am seriously loving their rendition of crazed Alastor!
> 
> What else could go from here, I wonder? Well, as far as I know, the chapters are finally forming the path, and it's only one of many resolutions to settle before then!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> In dutch - Getting trouble  
> Over the deep end - To lose control of oneself  
> Take any wooden nickels - Do something stupid  
> Cancer stick - Cigarette  
> Iron - Car  
> Heebie-jeebies - The jitters  
> Hooey - Bullshit  
> Blower - Telephone  
> Traps - Mouths  
> Rap - Information  
> Know from nothing - Don't know anything  
> Kicked off - Dead


	53. The Calm Within The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT AND MILD MENTIONS OF CANNIBALISM (Sexual content begins after '***'. Please skip to the next '***' for continuation, but story flow remains the same!)

Sleep faded away but the visions of night remained dark as Charlie slowly blinked away the fogginess in her mind to slowly clear her conscience. She expected to see the colours of morning paint the unfamiliar room and for a shine of sunlight to stream onto her face, but the scenery outside showed that it was still raining and the gentle light of dawn had yet to touch the skies. 

There was a chill in the air that had her burrowing back into the warm sheets with her hand groggily reaching out for the source of heat. But when it only found the empty space of a mattress, that had her lifting her head up to realise that Alastor was gone.

The loneliness grew steadily as her heart sank.

Charlie sat up slowly, drawing her legs up to her chest and hugging them tight. Her breathing was slow, each inhale and exhale taking gentle care to soothe herself to not be so overwhelmed. But it was easier said than done when she felt each heartbeat become more laborious at the thought that, despite everything and having fallen into an embrace with him once more, Alastor had still left her alone. 

The quivering of her lip signified the coming of unwanted tears, and she bit it furiously to stop herself from falling apart despite the need to break down. 

No, she won’t cry. Not again. She wasn’t going to cry. She won’t let herself... 

“Charlie?”

Charlie pulled her head up so quickly that it gave her a rush of vertigo, having been bothered by the feeling of abandonment that she did not realise the door opening until Alastor was standing there looking at her with a knitted frown. 

“Alastor! You’re here...”

Alastor kept quiet, knowing what this must have looked like - a repetition of their last morning after. But he said nothing of it as he walked over to the bed, reaching out for the lamp on his nightstand to bring a warm low light illuminating the room. It was then that Charlie noticed that he was re-dressed in the same shirt and cotton pants he had worn, and he was cradling a mug in his hands with a robe draped over an arm. A scent wafted to her and she was able to detect the drink - coffee. 

“I was in the kitchen. Just about to make breakfast,” Alastor explained, answering the question she did not ask but did set her mind at ease. 

Charlie glanced out his window at the dark skies and frowned curiously. “Isn’t it a tad bit too early for breakfast?” 

“A little past four in the morning, but I couldn’t sleep and I was starting to get hungry.”

Charlie said a simple ‘ah’ and kept on looking up at Alastor who was looking back at her just as intently. This silence was not awkward but instead one of simple consideration. Neither of them mentioned the fact that they had lain with each other once more but there was really nothing to be said about it. It was done and it was heavenly, and the fact that they were still with each other now - and that Alastor had actually stayed put and was now beside her - was all that mattered. 

“I don’t suppose you are too?” 

He meant if she was hungry as well, and that was when Charlie realised how empty her stomach was. The last thing she had eaten was the steamed carp back at Baton Rouge, but that hadn’t been enjoyed due to her lack of appetite then and thus she only had a few bites of. All of that had surely been burnt away when she had been having sex with Alastor, and so her energy had pretty much been drained.

Charlie nodded in response to his question and Alastor suddenly held out the mug for her to take. “I don’t have any  _ noodle juice  _ on me, so I hope coffee’s fine?”

She didn’t drink coffee, but the fact that he had actually made her one tremendously lifted her spirits enough to accept the warm offering with both hands and a gracious smile. Alastor sat down next to her on the bed as she started draping the blankets over herself to cover her modesty. He said nothing of it but there was a cheeky tilt of his lips because he thought it cute that she felt shy after being so exposed to each other’s bareness.

“Thank you,” Charlie said quietly, unknowing if she was saying that because he was here or because of the coffee that he gave her. Speaking of which, her eyes focused on the black liquid inside the mug, the aroma so strong and potent that it made Charlie’s nose tickle a bit and brought a chuckle out of Alastor at the gesture. In the low light, she could see the steam still billowing from the  _ java _ , indicating that the brew was fresh. 

“Careful, it’s hot,” Alastor warned her gently. 

Charlie took her time in giving it a few gentle blows to coll the surface enough for her lips to touch without scalding and took a careful sip. And as she drank, she immediately scrunched her nose. 

“An acquired taste, but is it alright?”

Charlie forced the last bit of liquid down her gullet and let the taste settle on her tastebuds to her disinclination. “It’s fine…” 

That was a clear lie, but Alastor chuckled more at the endearing nature of the darling doll. 

“Perhaps, a little milk and sugar might help to make it a bit more bearable, as well as a good hearty breakfast. If you would care to join me downstairs?”

It was a strange thought to be having breakfast when the Sun wasn’t even up yet but Charlie was too famished and drained of energy to be so particular about proper eating times. However, just as she moved to get herself up from the bed, she was suddenly aware that her body felt quite uncomfortably sticky. 

“Would it be alright if I took a shower first?..”

She hadn’t exactly had a proper wash after being drenched in the rain, and their ‘strenuous activity’ left her feeling a little unkempt for comfort this morning, thinking it quite tawdry that she was in such an unrefined state that it made her feel quite embarrassed. 

Alastor realised her discomfort and his smile turned assuring. He took the robe in his hands and draped it on her shoulders, closing the front to give her a bit more modesty. He caught sight of how Charlie pressed her lips slightly at his gesture and he swore he could see a pink glow forming on her pale cheeks, but he made no word on it as he took the mug from her hands and got up from the bed. 

“Bathroom’s the first door to your left. Take as long as you’d like. I’ll go and sweeten this up for you in the meantime.”

Charlie nodded in acknowledgement, staying in the bed until Alastor finally left the room, thus she did not see the way his face immediately fell upon shutting the door. 

It was with heavy steps like he was dragging himself that Alastor made his way back to the kitchen. His mind was not attuned to his body as he headed to the countertop where the ingredients needed to make a simple meal had already been laid out before he had gone upstairs. He didn’t seem to realise how much time was passing by with him slowly going about doing things in the kitchen. He functioned without thought as he got out his best cast iron pan and coated it with cooking oil before looming over it for no particular reason except to blankly watch the oil that was starting to bubble and smoke up. A few pops of the hot liquid and his movements continued to be mechanical as he turned the valve to lower the fire and cracked four eggs into it, along with a couple slices of -

_ What are you doing _ ? 

Alastor’s lips did not move but the voice he heard was undoubtedly his. It was like somebody was right beside him and giving a whisper that went through his ear canals, instead of the actuality that it was coming from inside his head. 

His inner voice seethed with loathing and anger, outraged at his blatant defiance from his ‘natural course’ and forcing him to feel something akin to a hangover of guilt like it was trying to give him a warning of what troubles he had allowed to take place for not following through with his instincts. 

But however wrong he felt, Alastor did not do anything to change it. It was his decision that ultimately wanted to keep Charlie in one piece and let her slumber on his bed where her essence had coated the sheets and permeated his pores until he had it swimming in his veins. It was his decision to ravish her neck with lips instead of teeth. It was his decision to gaze into her soulful eyes that spoke loudly of what she felt for him that compelled him to confess his love for her. 

_...What are you doing?... _

That voice sounded more like him now - more melancholic, more musing. 

It was the soft treading of feet that tore him out of his wallow and the voice was gone from his head when he turned to see Charlie enter the kitchen all wrapped up in his night robe. Her blonde hair fell in damp curls that were smoothed back messily and tucked behind her pink ears, her face looking much fresher than she had been earlier on in the night. 

They glanced at each other and instantly a small smile was exchanged between them. 

As Charlie took a seat at the table located in the centre of the kitchen, Alastor went about fixing her a fresh cup of coffee - he would just simply take the one she had sipped from earlier. Pouring in a splash of milk and dropping a couple of cubes of sugar, he gave it a stir until it was of adequate creamy colour before presenting it to her. 

“There you go. It oughta be more bearable to put down now.”

Charlie gave a scrutinising eye to the milky coffee but picked it up to her lips regardless. Giving it a few gentle blows to cool the surface, she finally took a sip. There was still a bit of face scrunching when the new modified taste hit her tongue, but it was much less pronounced than it had been when she drank it pure.

“Better?” 

“Yes,” the reply sounded weak but not entirely unconvincing, “though I personally would like a bit more milk and sugar in it.”

Alastor feigned a gasp of shock. “Darling, any more milk and sugar and you would be tarnishing a good cup of  _ joe  _ in such a sickly-sweet manner”

Charlie gave a joking frown and rolled her eyes. “I’m appreciating it by having it suit my taste.” Then with a haughty smirk, she cheekily remarked, “Besides, at least I’m still open to trying it. You don’t see me recoil from it as you do with tea.”

She bit back a smile at seeing Alastor looking quite undignified at her teasing his aversion to tea. Like the vain man he was, he only cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee with a shrug. 

“Tea is just leaf water.”

Charlie was just starting to take another sip of her milky sweet coffee but immediately choked. Alastor’s face dropped and he quickly reached out for her, but stopped with his hands hovering over her shaking form as she broke out into a chortle of a laugh that was caused by his silly answer. 

“And coffee is just bean water!”

“How dare you!” Alastor guffawed, putting a hand over his heart as he became ‘offended’. “Such an insult to coffee-drinkers everywhere!”

When Charlie stuck her tongue out at him, it broke Alastor’s composure and made him break out into a laugh. It sounded so pure in his mirth with how he squeezed his eyes shut in unrestrained merriment. Hearing it tickled Charlie’s own funny bone at their silly childish banter, and her own tinkling laughter joined him in a symphony that maintained its light-heartedness even when their giggling fit faded away and their gazes settled on each other with softness in their eyes. 

The tender moment would have lasted a little longer if Charlie had not noticed the pan on the stove. 

“Uh, Alastor?.. I think the food’s done.”

Alastor turned to see light tracings of smoke rise up from the pan and immediately got up from his seat to switch the fire off. He was glad to see that the meat and the eggs were only charred at the edges but not burnt to the point of being inedible. 

As he plated the food onto two separate plates, Charlie could not keep her eyes off him. She let her sights roam and appreciated how tousled his hair was when it was messy, the way his white cotton shirt clung to the smooth curve of his lean frame, and how natural he looked standing over the stove like he was at home there. It was so unlike the Alastor she was used to seeing, who would be all properly-groomed in a sharp suit and so poised in posture. This Alastor seemed like a more intimate side of himself, one who could be vulnerable and at ease from the prying eyes of the whole world in the comforts of the safe space that was his kitchen, and Charlie felt like she had been blessed to be able to witness such an image. 

She looked away just in time for him to be done and turning back towards the table. She did not make it obvious that she had been ogling and daydreaming about him at the moment and immediately set her attention to the plate that he had set in front of her. 

“Golly… This looks incredible, Alastor.”

He smiled as he took his seat again. “You flatter me, Charlie. But it’s nothing much.”

While it may be nothing much with just simple eggs and meat - she guessed that it must be bacon, but it was thicker and had a hue different from cooked bacon - that was the typical breakfast food, it was like a feast to her eyes, most probably because she was hungry and waited not a second more to tuck in. 

Charlie picked up her utensils and started to cut up the eggs. The yolk of the sunny-side up spilt out as she pierced it with her fork, dipping the egg white into it before bringing it into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully and hummed in approval. It was just eggs cooked simply, but still, it was tasty.

When she moved onto the meat slices, she was unaware of Alastor watching her since she took her first bite. She didn’t realise the way his eyes watched carefully as she cut up a piece of meat or the way it intently followed the path of her fork to her lips when she popped it in.

She only realised his fixed stare on her when her eyes widened suddenly upon her first chew.

“This is delicious!” 

Alastor sighed in relief, and Charlie felt it sweet that he had been nearly on the edge of his seat to see if she would approve of his cooking, and she did. It didn’t taste like bacon, instead much sweeter and softer to chew, but the flavour burst on her tongue wonderfully. 

“This is absolutely tasty. I don’t think I’ve had meat like this.”

“A special cut of pork,” Alastor explained as he too started to work on his own plate. “Might be a little funny to the tongue for a first-timer, but one might get quite addicted to the flavour.”

“Oh, you’re telling me!” Charlie replied enthusiastically as she cut up another piece and took another bite. It exploded in her mouth, that little hint of char really bringing an almost smoky note to the flavour. "Does the meat shop downtown carry this type of pig? I really would like to cook it for myself the next time."

Alastor glanced at her for a moment but did not answer as his mouth was full and chewing. So Charlie waited patiently for his answer, locked in his gaze that again became affixed on her, so very thoughtful as he swallowed. 

"I could get it for you."

Charlie tilted her head in confusion. "Don’t be silly, Alastor. I don't want to trouble you."

His lips tilted into a smirk that did not seem as amused as he made it out to be when he shook his head with a sigh. "You've been troubling me so much as of late, but I really wouldn't mind. Anything for you, darling."

Such a strange answer to a relatively simple enquiry, but she was more taken with the gentlemanly demeanour that was quite like Alastor when he offered her just that. Just that polite smile of his made her shy all over again, and she only answered with a bashful batting of lashes before turning back to her food. 

Utensils clinked and scraped on the plates and coffee was sipped quietly. Every so often, Alastor’s gaze would flicker over to his hers, still smiling even as he chewed his food. The simplicity of such a gesture made Charlie feel like everything was alright. It even felt somewhat domestic in a way, with Alastor here beside her and they were both enjoying each other’s company over a simple meal, no words spoken but their silence was comfortable. Something that was like a blessing finally received from those turbulent days. 

“Thank you, Alastor…”

Alastor did not know as to what she was thanking him for; whether it was for the meal, for still being around when she woke up, or for answering her when she needed him the most. But before he could ask ‘for what?’, he suddenly became curious as to what had led on to this. 

“Where were you the whole day?” he asked. “I swung by in the morning to see you, but you weren’t there.” 

To hear that Alastor had actually gone to look for her made her heart do twice a beat in a second, like it was going to flutter in delight.

But it was suddenly with a strained smile that was more akin to a grimace that he added, “Your friend answered the door again.”

And then the fluttering stopped, and her heart clenched.

“Oh, dear… I hope Vaggie didn’t act too impolitely to you?”

Alastor remained stoic, not showing on his expression the remembrance of that blasted  _ pachuca _ ’s behaviour to him this morning. Although, he could feel his lips wanting to curl in smugness at the thought of having the object of Miss Vaggie’s secret affections end up in his bed. Oh, how glorious it would be to see the look on that  _ Bug-Eyed Betty _ ’s face if she knew! That would tickle Alastor’s funny bones for days and he won’t feel even a pinch of remorse about it.

But ever the gentleman he was, he would allow that little bitch’s dignity to be kept intact for a while more.

“Well, it’s clearly not a secret that she absolutely loathes me, but let’s not bother about it.”

Charlie only hummed, secretly relieved that she wouldn’t have to feel guilty talking about Vaggie, especially thinking about how she must be sound asleep and none the wiser of her being in Alastor’s house. It was a good thing that Alastor kept the conversation going and did not allow the silence to haunt her with those thoughts.

“She didn’t tell me where you had gone, and suddenly you showed up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, drenched in rain with tears streaming down your face.”

Alastor suspected that there had been a split-second decision she made internally that told her to not answer, but rationality had gotten the better of her when she answered, “I had actually gone back to Baton Rouge.”

His brows shot up in surprise. “So suddenly? What’s the occasion?”

"Nothing special. Just wanted to visit my parents for the weekend.”

“I see.” His next question was muttered, “And how is your father?”

Alastor wasn’t all too keen to bring up Lucifer Magne into the conversation but at this point, he was quite done with being on edge regarding the subject of the Big Apple. Also, it was the only thing he could think to bring up to continue the conversation. However, he wasn’t actually expecting Charlie to be just as unenthusiastic to talk about her father as he was, as evident from the drop in her face and the strain in her voice. 

“He’s… fine.” That didn’t sound right for her to say that. “At least, I think he is. I don’t think he quite appreciated what I did.”

“And what did you do?” Alastor asked, his curiosity obvious by what she had meant by that.

With a sigh as though thinking about it alone was troublesome, Charlie replied, “The Von Eldriches were there…”

The name evaded him for a moment until his thoughts recollected a memory of one particular smarmy individual that he had been introduced to at Lucifer Magne’s birthday party. 

“I think I see where this is going… Did the ex-boyfriend give you trouble?” 

While it was sometimes a curse on her end to be so much like an open book, she was impressed that Alastor could immediately deduce that. “He kind of did… And it didn’t help that his mother somewhat broached the subject of me and him, and all before she started to ‘not’ insult my hotel.”

The taste of delicious food on her tongue suddenly turned bitter at the thought of her little row with the family. She felt the pang of irritation return as she suddenly went on a rant to him about Seviathan’s arrogance, Helsa’s impudence and Bethesda's pea-brainedness - Frederick may have not done anything to irk her but damn him too for his family. She had been amazed at the patience she exhibited in their patience throughout the whole day, but the last bit about the hotel had become one insult too many in her case. 

Throughout, Alastor simply listened. He did not say much as his darling  _ beefed  _ on and on with much spite and only nodded once in a while to acknowledge something she said or to encourage her to keep going. 

“It was simply the worst. I should have  _ lammed off  _ back to New Orleans the minute I laid my eyes on their obnoxious  _ mugs _ ,” Charlie sighed irately when she had finished recounting. “Now I’m pretty sure some good juicy  _ chin music  _ is going to spread in the circles, and my parents are definitely going to want to give me a whole  _ earful _ should they get the chance soon.”

Charlie was glad that Alastor hadn’t been one for question throughout her whole ramble, though it would be soon that she would discover that, as much as he was involved in listening to every little detail of the holiday-gone-wrong, he was admittedly more pressed on the more important topic of a certain rat. 

“Did he ask for you back?”

It was supposed to be a simple question, so Alastor was surprised at the bite his voice had when he asked. He was suddenly very aware of an unpleasant feeling that started to gnaw at something in him; the exact same feeling he had upon first meeting the fella and finding out that he was Charlie’s former flame. Jealousy was not something he was quite familiar with, but damn, did it really drive a need to find the  _ bozo _ and do a good  _ kisser _ to that bastard's face for his audacity.

Charlie took notice of how sullen he had become when his eyes turned hard. It made a nervous lump form in her throat and had her gut twisting uncomfortably. Suddenly she was wishing that he hadn't brought up the conversation or that she should have not told him that detail in the first place, but what’s done was done and it would only make him push further if she evaded his question. 

“...Yes.”

She swore she could see his jaw clench just the tiniest bit when he asked, “And what did you say?”

“I refused, of course.”

The hardness in his gaze remained but there was now a tilt-up the corner of his lips that did nothing to soften his features. “Thought so. But why would you?”

“Because I don’t want to?” Charlie replied like she was stating the obvious. 

Alastor hummed and did not press for her to elaborate, and Charlie would have thought that it would be the end of it. It was a new thing for her to see him even mildly jealous, and while flattering, she didn’t really fancy the thought of talking too much about her ex-boyfriend to her new lover. So she was more than glad that he didn’t ask-

“Had he ever taken you to bed before, darling?”

The clatter of a fork to her plate did not strike her from the moment her heart skipped a beat, stunning Charlie into dumbfoundedness.

“... What?”

In contrast to the waver in her voice, Alastor’s was firm. “You heard me,” he said, “Had he ever taken you to bed before?”

His expression was unchanged, but the look of his eyes now made Charlie wish that a hole would suddenly appear beneath her feet and swallow her up whole. She felt like she was being backed up into a corner with no form of escape except to comply and answer for the sake of getting past it. 

“... Yes.”

“Was he your first?”

“Yes.”

“Was he any good?”

“No.”

“You can be truthful.”

“And I am!” Charlie exclaimed with much fluster. "With how much he just lies there, I’d have thought I was  _ barneymugging  _ a wooden plank, and even something as dull as that would have had a lot more character than he does!” 

While Charlie could go on about how Seviathan Von Eldrich was such a bore in bed, she still had her face to keep and honestly, this was just not a good time - and neither is any time at that - to be divulging about her past sex life! If only she did not feel compelled to answer for the sake of being truthful with Alastor because she was not liking this conversation even one bit. 

Alastor, however, wasn’t ready to stop just yet.

“So, who’s better?”

That incited a loud groan out of the bashful doll, her palm covering her face to hide her embarrassment. “Do you really want me to say it?” she asked quietly with a tone that pleaded with him to not prod her.

Alastor, of course, remained relatively pushy. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

“...You are.”

And now his grin turned wolfish of sorts. “Now you’re just flattering me.”

“I’m not! And stop pushing it before I wipe that cocky smirk off your  _ button _ .”

Her warning was meant to be fierce in her bid to protect her pride, but such a display did not make Alastor tone down in his hauteur. If anything, it made him chuckle heartily in a boisterous fashion befitting of a man who became big-headed at his sexual prowess. Such a display of conceit wasn’t all too appreciated by Charlie, who frowned with eyes rolling almost to the back of her head. 

“I’m glad to know I’m stroking your ego, at least,” Charlie grumbled.

His pride took a few more seconds to simmer down, but when it did, there was suddenly a glint in his eyes that was unlike the playfulness one would show during teasing. It was much more obscure, and quite  _ hinky  _ with his smirk. 

“Oh, love. You’ll be stroking much more than that.”

Before she could even ask what the Hell he meant by that obvious innuendo, Alastor had already slipped a hand up to her cheek and leaned forward out of his chair to close the distance between them and take her into a kiss.

Charlie yelped, stunned with wide frazzled eyes as she froze in place. But when she felt how earnestly Alastor kissed her with eyes screwed shut, she could feel herself slowly melting into this sudden embrace. Her own hands came up to hold his scarred biceps for leverage as she returned the kiss with just as much passion.

It was all a rush then, with Alastor basically cradling her up the stairs again. Charlie was in a midst of confusion that held her in with the fierce kiss that he trapped her in. Before long, she was back on his bed with Alastor already pulling his shirt off over his head and chucking it uncaringly to a corner of the room. Before Charlie could even take a breath to compose herself to the situation properly, Alastor had already crawled onto the bed and up her form to assault her neck with fierce kisses.

“Alastor!” she gasped in a muddlement of confusion at this quick change of events.

But when Alastor lifted his head up from her neck, the sight of dark desire pooled into eyes that were gazing intensely at her took her breath away into unresisting silence. 

“My apologies, darling. But if we are to be together right now, I need to make sure that you are every inch of  **mine** as much as possible. 

He did not wait for her to say anything when he’s already tugging the strings of the night robe loose and letting it fall to her sides to expose her nakedness like a gift being unravelled. He pulled away from her neck to look down at her bare figure, feeling his heart start to slow into deep beats when he drank in the sight of her gorgeous body.

"...Beautiful…" 

He leaned in and planted his lips firmly back to her neck, with Charlie gasping aloud again in spiked pleasure. While her freshly-washed skin maintained her sweet scent, it was intermingled with the fragrance of his soap and his own scent that came from the night robe. It smelt like his essence had started to seep into her body, making him growl in pleasure at the thought but also grow with the immense need for her to be completely permeated with his scent on her skin. 

And with that immense need came the burning desire to take her like a stag would take a doe in heat. 

***

Without warning, Alastor flipped her around effortlessly to have her front pressed down onto the mattress. Charlie yelped at the sudden switch in positions, but immediately froze when she could feel his hand moving on the curve of her waist, snaking down to underneath her until the tips of his fingers reached the warmth that he had been seeking out and made her emote  a sound that was a cross between a shocked gasp and a strangled moan, mewling underneath him as his fingers gently caressed the folds of her nether lips and felt her dampness on his digits.

“How much do you desire me to have you become so undone so easily?”

The demand for an answer was masked by his sultry purr that had the heat pooling deep within her go into a full blaze that threatened to melt her into a pool of desire for the man on top of her. She could hear his deep intakes of breaths as he felt more of her wetness, and it was a hard press of fingers that had her choking out her answer.

“...Too much…”

Charlie was too wrecked in pleasure by his fingers massaging her that she was barely aware of his pants being pushed down to reveal his hard-on finally pressing skin-to-skin with hers until she could feel his engorged head finding her entrance, and it was all too late to even try to hold out the cry of erotic pleasure that was torn from her throat when he pushed himself in.

This time, their conjugal activity took on a much rougher pace than their past two encounters had. There was nothing gentle in Alastor’s movements as he took her like a beast needing release, and it made Charlie feel so obscene to actually be enjoying this rough side of him. The way he took her from behind, making sure that he filled her up good up to her hilt, was so sinful that probably even the angels looking down on them from the Heavens above might be offended by their display of coupling. 

Alastor was under such an intoxicating influence that was out-of-control now. Charlie was like a drug to him - one whiff of her scent and it was enough to send him into such an animalistic trance that couldn’t be quelled unless he was sure that he took her rough and good and made sure that she knew that she was his. 

The chemistry between their bodies was unbelievable. It was as if their forms were moulded to be perfectly paired with each other, bringing out in each other a force of carnal nature that sat dormant within their bodies until they were joined together in union. The connection was so unnervingly mind-blowing that as her mind lost composure to the pleasure, Charlie wondered if she could ever bear to be apart from him and from this. Such a thought made her feel filthy like a whore and she would have blushed at such scandalous thoughts if she wasn’t already heated up and too off her head to really give much of a damn. 

All Charlie wanted was to be at Alastor’s mercy, to bask in the way she irrevocably drawn to him so infatuated and so in love and in lust. She never knew true desire until he arrived in her life and took her on a whirlwind that made her steadfast in the anticipation of being with him in more ways than words could convey, in a way that could only be known to the both of them in this shared privacy. 

Her walls clenched around him and almost trapped him in her ecstatic quivering until he forced himself to pull out for his own release to spill safely onto the expanse of her back. Alastor held himself up by a shaking arm while his other hand trembled as it gripped onto himself to force out every bit of his essence, watching in fascination at the starkness of his seed on his love’s flushed pale skin. 

***

Alastor collapsed beside her on the bed, not wanting to put any pressure on her fragile form with his weight. Their breathings were both erratic as they calmed themselves from that intense high, their conscience still trying to clear in the daze that’s besotted them in their euphoria. 

Yet despite his state of breathlessness, Alastor still smugly asked, “Did I assert my position as the best you’ve ever had?”

No sound came out of Charlie’s lips as she continued to take heavy inhales of breath, but he felt her head nodding in agreement. His breathlessness allowed a silent chuckle, and enough energy for him to reach out to the nape of her neck and move aside her still-damp curls to plant a soft kiss there. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her to press against his chest. Charlie let herself be pulled into him, cherishing the heat of his body and finding it to be most welcoming in the aftermath of bliss.

The overexertion along with the hearty meal they’ve had just now made Alastor feel a mix of exhaustion and fullness that lulled him comfortably to sleep, too tired to think about clothes that needed picking up or the dishes left in the kitchen that needed cleaning. 

He’d worry about that later. At least they had managed a good meal together before another bout of sleep, and he must say, he was quite pleased with himself to know that Charlie certainly had good taste in meats. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After last update's steamy chapter, I wanted to allow a little moment of fluff between our two new lovebirds and what better way to be doing it than over breakfast? But of course, things can't be too peachy for long when Alastor wants to find out what exactly had been up with his darling doll, but looks like that little bite of irritation didn't last too long until it's ended up with another impromptu steamy session ;) But yes! It's a good thing they've got a good meal before anything else...
> 
> The last chapter was a hit and YES we are all glad that our smiling bastard has finally done a few things right after FOREVER. And as such, thank you to my lovely darlings Loonette (@Loonette3) for the beautiful sketch, Careen (@careenloba) for the hilarious meme, and Nancy (@nancyplus100) for the gorgeous mini-comic!
> 
> Trust me guys! I want this little moment of fluffy goodness to last a little longer, but we all know that MuseValentine is a dick that gets the drama rolling far too quickly XD Although, something as important as this would call for an occasion of reflection. Looks like someone's gotta do a lil bit of reflection...
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Noodle juice - Tea  
> Java - Coffee  
> Joe - Coffee  
> Pachuca - Mexigan girl  
> Bug-Eyed Betty - Ugly girl  
> Beefed - Complained  
> Mugs - Faces  
> Lammed off - Ran off  
> Chin music - Gossip  
> Earful - A prolonged and angry reprimand  
> Bozo - Fool  
> Kisser - Punch  
> Barneymugging - Having sex  
> Button - Face  
> Hinky - Off-putting


	54. Sadder Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Dead Dove - Do Not Eat, animal cruelty & death, child abuse, domestic abuse, death of a loved one, graphic violence, war trauma, pandemic

A finger trailed where he would normally flinch from touch, but he was still as he watched her eyes trace the shape of one of his many cicatrixes.

“These scars…”

He already knew to anticipate the question; it was only a matter of time.“From a long time ago.”

He did not add on, and so she asked, “So many?”

“Unfortunately so,” he replied, his voice sounding nonchalant but she could hear the subtlest tone of bitterness in his words.

“... Poor thing…”

He was glad the room was still relatively dim for her to be unable to see the way he stiffened at her empathetic tone. 

“Why the pity?” he inquired, not giving away any indication of loathing to her unintentional insult.

When the touch of her finger became the palm of her hand pressing gently against his scarred chest, the effect it had on him was instantaneous - suddenly his anger was gone, and he softened under her gentle caress.

“I don’t think someone like you deserved such a thing.”

* * *

_Soothing balms on each fresh cut that she tended to before her own._

_The crooning of her lovely voice as she eased his pain, even with how cracked or strained it was from the pain around her neck._

_Fingers brushing away tears and her thumb smoothed on his lips to lift the corners up into a smile, even when her own didn’t reach her bruised eyes._

_“Now, where’s that handsome smile of yours,_ cher _?”_

 _“I can’t smile…” he muttered quietly with a broken voice caused by crying so hard like a baby_ , _“Everything hurts…”_

_She knew it did, as it did almost every other day. But while she wished for nothing more than to be able to ease the pain of her beloved away, she knew there was not much that could be done._

_But even though there was no denying the inevitable, what kind of mother would let her child wallow in their pain? Mother’s love drove her need to give him a reason to smile, even if she couldn’t find the strength. Mother had always been self-sacrificial like that._

_“Come now, dah-lin’. You know you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”_

_His mother’s soothing words, repeated to him time and time again like a mantra to follow, could usually boost his esteem and make him feel better. But though it did bring the corner of his lips tilting up for just the shortest second, it looked like his heart was still too heavy and weighing down that smile._

_He wondered how she could always find it in her to put up a front when their life was the epitome of a living Hell._

_\---_

_Father - it was sickening for him to refer to the man by such a respect-commanding term which he was undeservedly given - was by no means a loving individual. In fact, he was quite exactly the opposite. A_ shack bully, he would consider himself. But no, he was far worse. 

_Cruelty personified as if he were the Devil in human form._

_His hand was heavy-set but swift as it swung down onto his wife and child, and it didn’t take much to get it swinging. Anything could trigger him and that was the scariest part, because one would not know exactly what he would deem as ‘wrong’ until it’s been done and one’s already had something thrown at the face. He remembered once when he so much as glanced at Father, and he had taken it as an offence and saw it as a means for the boy to want to get tough with him. He would take it as a lesson deserved on who was really tough as punches and kicks rain down upon the frail child. Almost all the time, Mother would throw herself on top of her son, taking the beatings on his behalf even when her own body was already too wrecked up from taking some blows prior._

_Father wasn’t picky when it came to using a ‘weapon’ for some extra kick to the beatings. If he was feeling extra corporal, he made him strip and whacked him all around his tiny body, until the fold of hard leather was enough to break skin and leave him in the array of scars, serving as his ‘lesson learnt’._

_Some nights he recalled laying in bed in his room - it felt more like a prison than anything else, like the rest of the house was - and listening to the sound of fighting continuing on into the night. Father would be upset about something, Mother would be trying to placate him. Better nights would end off with just a muttering of curses, with an insult or two thrown at Mother, worse nights would be his shouts and her cries carrying on nearly until the day broke Those nights, Mother told him never to come out of his room no matter what, to even go_ do-do _if he could. So one could only imagine the sort of helplessness he felt, how much he wished to be able to come to his mother’s aid and run from the violence they’ve been subjected to._

_Precisely the reason why it hurt him Mother would keep on insisting to stay. He could not understand why. That bastard could beat her to the point where she could practically be at Death’s feet and she’ll still swear it’s nothing. Gave reasons that Father was the one putting food on the table and putting him through school, so they needed to be at their best for him. All this she would answer with fear pooled heavily in those sad eyes and broken smile._

_He could never understand her reluctance, and he couldn’t help but feel angry. How could Mother still encourage him to smile when they were stuck like this? Stuck like this because of_ her _?_

_\---_

_He was never one to socialise much. No one in school or out of it was particularly a ‘friend’ to him. It was not because there was something wrong with him, though. He found out he could talk to people and made friends quite easily. But what was stopping him was the look on their faces when they caught a good glimpse at how battered he looked almost daily, particularly at the bruises on his legs that could not be hidden by his shorts or stockings. Thankfully his back was always hidden by the long-sleeved shirts he wore daily, for he dared not of the shame and embarrassment that would engulf him at how their gazes would turn at the sight of his scars._

_So to bide his time in his lonesome, he often found himself in the company of the radio._

_It was probably the most expensive thing they had in the house. Father had bought it one day a few years ago, listened to it probably a handful of times and never used it much afterwards. Father didn’t seem to particularly care when he started using it, and he probably understood that it was one of the only things they had to keep themselves entertained in that godforsaken house so he didn’t make too much of a noise about him touching it so much._

_That radio became everything to him._

_He admired its wooden box and its circular dials, the vibrations coming through the holes, and the sounds of static in between the cheerful chatter of the radio presenter. But peculiar as he was, radio hosts were the greatest music to his ears, even more than the actual tunes. Oftentimes, Mother would find him holding the muffs tight to his ears as some presenter relayed the news or told a story. And time after time she would hear him mimic their trans-Atlantic accent and even pace himself in time with the speed of their speech. He was fascinated by their vocal prowess, amazed by how by their voices alone they could capture the attention all around New Orleans, and he wanted to be able to do just that._

_“Love of my life. One day, I’ll be hearing your voice on those waves.”_

_“You really think so, Mama?”_

_She cupped his cheek and gave him a soft smile. “I know so.”_

_\---_

_It wasn’t quite the norm for boys his age to be helping their mothers out in the kitchen, but he found comfort in being there with Mother. She would let him take the_ brown paper bag _and shake it up good to coat the meat in flour and breadcrumbs while she worked on the_ dirty rice _. Spices flew into the pot and its fragrant aroma wafted to where his nose could reach with him standing on a step-stool beside her. She would let him stir the pot and even taught him the best way to cut okra to get the slimy bits out so that the gumbo won’t turn out ropey._

_But he was still a little too young to be handling the kitchen, so oftentimes he would just watch and learn. He did wish he could be a lot more helpful, though._

_And one day, an opportunity presented itself in the most unusual way._

_He would take his time getting back home after school had let out for the day. Walking along the marshes, taking in the sights of the same old trees and the same old dirt that paved the way, he took his time strolling to get as much fresh air as he could before he went back to his stifling house._

_But when a rabbit suddenly came onto his path, he stopped._

_Rabbits weren’t so often found in this part of New Orleans, and he rarely saw one up close. Driven by child-like curiosity, he knelt down so he could get a clearer look. The bunny seemed to have taken this notion as an invitation to come closer because suddenly it was hopping its way towards him. When he held out his cupped hands, the thing sniffed him with its cute little nose before nestling into his palms._

_It was fluffy like the down filling his pillow, and so tiny he could feel its fast-paced heartbeat pulsing on his touch. With his thumbs, he stroked the sides of its face, feeling the shape of its head and its softness on his fingertips._

_But too engrossed in its fluffiness he didn’t realise he accidentally brushed over a beady eye, agitating it to bite his thumb in defence. The instant sharp stinging pain sent a jolt coursing through him, yelping as his grip unintentionally tightened in his reflex._

_The rabbit squealed._

_He paused._

_Something came over him then, bringing him to a standstill as he stared at the now-frightened creature kept in his tightened hold. The struggle was imminent - the squirming of the tiny body in his hands, the look of desperation in its beady eyes and the sharp squeals of panic as it looked for an escape._

_It felt so helpless at his mercy._

_And for some reason, that made him feel… quite nice._

_“Look, Mama! I got us a rabbit for dinner!”_

_She would look at the dead creature he held up by its hind legs with a disconcerting look. “How did you manage to catch that,_ cher _?” she asked._

_“Already dead when I found it.”_

_She really doubted that when she took a good look at it for herself and found out the poor creature had its neck twisted in a manner not indicating death of natural causes, especially not with the precision no wild creature could possess._

_But seeing the look of eagerness on his face, the immense pride in getting something good for dinner, she never said anything and just chopped its head off cleanly before going ahead to skinning it for the stew._

_\---_

_There had been news from across the pond about the murder of someone important named Ferdinand in a faraway land that he had never heard of until war broke out from that tragedy._

_Tensions rose faster than the Mississippi River during monsoon and the in-betweens of countries became no man’s land that was the deadly meeting grounds of the Allied and Central powers. Destruction became rampant and thousands - probably even millions - lives were lost._

_Every day since then, the radio’s_ _been broadcasting updates - casualties, fallen sanctions, bets on which country was going to emerge out of it the winner. It kept everyone in the city on their toes, even if the war was not within reach of American soil._

_But then came 1917, and old Woodrow got pressed to declare nation-wide of his decision to send the country’s best and able-bodied men to aid in the war efforts._

_One by one, trucks entered the city with officials in uniforms. They sat at tables that had men lined up to disclose their personal particulars. ‘Fight for the glory of America’, they would say to incite a drive in every single man they inspected. New Orleans wasn’t so much of a big city, so no suitable man was left unchecked._

_That was why Father got drafted to the front lines quickly._

_Mother had packed his things and had even given him a kiss on the cheek in a bid of good luck and safe travels. It was one of the rare few occasions he had seen her be able to convey some form of her loving affection to her husband, who for once was still in grim silence. It was almost a revolting sight for him to witness, unable to comprehend the thought she would still be willing to do such a thing to a face that would not have hesitated to beat hers to a pulp. It compelled him to not give any send-off gesture of his own as he hid behind Mother’s skirts and looked down to the floor. He could feel his gaze on the top of his head and wait for the scolding that did not come as he turned and walked away to an awaiting truck nearby._

_It was quiet that night - a little too quiet for their familiarity. That night, he laid in bed beside Mother. She had cried herself to sleep at the thought of her husband having been taken off to some far-off lands which did not promise his safety, weeping in prayers he would be kept from danger and not meet a gruesome end._

_He did not share the same sentiment._

_He only stayed by her side for her to hold onto for comfort, but he himself did not shed a tear, not letting her know this was the first time he’s ever felt a semblance of true relief._

_The silence in the house was foreign to him, but without hesitation, he welcomed it._

_\---_

_They banned the radio because it interfered with transmission for the war, and that was truly a huge downer. The device sat where it was and collected dust. There was no point listening to it because all he would hear was static. The radio presenters were gone and he didn’t know when he would be able to hear their entertaining voices again._

_So for lack of better things to do, he went outside and ‘played’ with the animals._

_His skills in socialising seemed to extend even to stray creatures. Well, except dogs, which he tried to steer clear from - there was no telling what those sharp teeth in their maws could do. There were rabbits if he was lucky, weak as they were in his grasp which made it easy to secure stew for dinner. Cats were quite the fighters and always sunk their claws into him, scratching at his arms and drawing blood that compelled him to draw out their own._

_Why did he keep doing it? Maybe because for once, it felt good that he seemed to have some sort of power. It was a lot of stress relief, no doubt caused by years of pent-up frustration embedded in him. He just needed to let it out somehow, and what better way than through pitiful creatures that wouldn’t know what they had coming?_

_But even with the drawing of blood from feisty cats, his body was looking much better than it had ever been. In time, the bruises and wounds marring his forms had started to vanish until his skin was the most flawless it’s ever been, though glossy scars remain forever etched and served as a scornful reminder of the man he hoped would not survive the horrors taking place on the other side of the world. It at least helped him to start wearing suits befitting a fifteen-year-old boy, saving his dignity from sympathetic and curious eyes that he did not favour._

_Even Mother started looking the healthiest she’s ever been, her body recovering in the same way his own was. However, there were times when he would find her gazing out the window at nothing in particular, lost in thoughts that were no doubt about the man was absent from their house. That look would go away when he walked into the room and she gave him the small smile, one that never seemed to reach her dim eyes, but was still genuine, just for him._

_He knew she was still sad, but he thought she would get over it soon. She must, because this was probably the most at peace they’ve ever been. They could walk around the house without the need to be cautious. They could talk without holding their tongues. They could laugh and sing tunes and make jokes over meals they made for just the both of them. They could fall to slumber by each other’s side into the most peaceful of nights of sleep that he’s ever known._

_Everything was perfect._

_As how he always wished._

_And how he wished that it would stay that way._

_But then came the flu._

_\---_

_Another hacking cough, a lot worse than the last as spittle and phlegm flew onto the handkerchief she covered her mouth with. This cough didn’t sound like something a sip of cool water or a spoonful of honey could fix. It sounded far worse._

_“... Mama…”_

_“Yes,_ cher _?” she asked sweetly through a strained voice._

_“Everybody’s getting sick, Mama… You are too.”_

_She wanted to tell him it was alright. That it was just a passing ailment which will go away after a few days. But how can she lie to him when the opposite was evident?_

_There was sickness in the air that had nearly all of New Orleans confined to their homes in hopes of not getting sick. And when they were forced to be out in the open, half their faces were covered in what they called ‘masks’ in an effort to not breathe in the disease. But try as they may, sickness still found its way to some. Hospitals were filling up fast until there was not even floor space left for the multitudes that sought aid there, and some even vacated their homes if a single family member was down with the virus._

_But he would not do that, not when he was the only one that she had left. He dared not to go out except to find something to make into a gruel she could eat, even if she couldn’t intake any food due to the pain in her throat. Nearly every hour he would stay by her side, constantly placing cloths of cold water on her head in hopes of breaking her fever._

_He had never prayed before, thinking it useless when this supposed ‘God’ had doomed both him and Mother to such a cruel life. But seeing her wasting away before his eyes made his knees bruised from those long hours of kneeling by her bedside with hands clasped as he pleaded and begged in whispers to any mysterious high power that could be merciful._

_But it would seem that the higher power was hell-bent on keeping his life as damned as it was, because Father survived._

_\---_

After _‘The Treaty of Versailles’ happened, he remembered seeing the trucks filing in from wherever into the streets of New Orleans, ferrying fathers and brothers and grandsons and nephews and husbands back to the heart of the South. He remembered how loud the streets were that the cries of relief and the yelps of joy became one noisy symphony of loud harmony. He remembered wishing that among those men, one in particular would not be a part of the number._

_He remembered it had all been pin-drop silence within his house when the door opened and followed with the loud step of a boot and a grim face that made his stomach turn and his heart clench._

_“Oh, dah-lin!”_

_Watching Mother force herself out of bed to inch closer to Father in careful steps was excruciating, but none as excruciating as the weak smile she gave to that man. How could she be smiling? They were happy on their own! They had all the peace in the world! And even with her current condition, she was at least not in a more broken state than she would have been before the war. So why was she smiling like she was happily welcoming all of that back into their lives?!_

_And worse of all, for the man who just took a hard and grim look at her and simply muttered, “You’re diseased.”_

_\---_

_They say war does things to a man who had to witness it before his very own eyes. Some become sullen, some melancholic, some so scarred from the horrors that they were forced to witness that it drove a few to the point of taking their own lives._

_They never talk about the ones that continue with the violence._

_The noises he had hoped would just remain as nothing more than mere echoes of a past returned with much vigour. Things thrown, curses uttered, skin hitting skin in a flurry of punches. Gruelling sounds of coughing and vomiting and desperate pleas weakened by sickness laced in, a horrifying novelty to the familiar terrors._

_“Fuckin’ could have died out in those damned trenches, and I got to come back to this shithole?!”_

_“I’m sorry, dah-lin,” Mother begged pathetically through a cloth held to the mouth, stained by the blood that could either be phlegm or the gore gushing from her broken nose. He couldn’t be sure. He could never be sure. “That was all I could make for dinner… We don’t have enough food left.”_

_“Fuckin’ excuses!” Father spat, eyes glaring in contempt at the bowl of grits presented to him in a pathetic display. “What else, huh? Let me guess, you’re too sick?”_

_Had it been like the last time, he would have just remained seated where he was, at the dining table with his trap shut and eyes downcasted in fear. But he had begun to get too comfortable with the tranquility he got to experience; all the shouting, the quarrels, were becoming a nuisance to him. With the passage of age came a much ballsy front for him to want to get a word in or two, it would seem._

Father, if you weren’t happy, then why not just do us all a favour and stay where it was oh so much better, and decorate the trenches with your mauled, disgusting **carcass** ?

_He wanted to say it so badly, to spit it in his abhorrent mug. But the words did not escape his mouth when Mother spoke._

_“Go to your room,_ cher.”

“... Mama?”

“Now, dah-lin.”

_He could not move his feet or his tongue. He only stayed there in his seat, staring at her like she had grown two heads or was out of her goddamn mind for telling him to go to his room._

_Because for each action, there is an equal reaction. A simple rule all of nature followed. One his crude, chauvinistic Father could perhaps grasp, if presented in the only manner human garbage like him could understand. Alas, he loosened his fists and restrained himself. For_ **_her_ ** _sake._

 _It didn’t mean he understood. No - her actions were those of a madwoman. How could it even cross her mind he would just go to his room and leave her with this deranged lunatic she called husband? He wasn’t a kid anymore! Throwing herself out of the way for him as the only means of protection her sacrificial mindset understood wasn’t a necessity. Why was she so illogical in her actions? Why did she always let_ **_him_ ** _win so easily?_

_Her love was just so foolish. There were many languages of so-called love, but letting yourself be an everlasting victim surely must have been one of the most nonsensical. Because, as a consequence, she vicariously forced the one she loved to fall prey, too, and to stay this way._

_He was so tired of it. Of being_ weak _. Of being forced to_ **_be_ ** _weak, even when he was perfectly capable of repaying the pathetic excuse of a “Father” in a way which would put all the atrocities of the front he just oh so heroically returned from to_ **_shame._ **

_But it was with his own shame that he still followed through, getting up from the table without another look to either one of his parents. The path to his room felt heavy with trepidation peaking as he closed the door behind him._

_The screaming._

_The coughing._

_The crying._

_He could only close his eyes and try to block out the noises, curling up into himself with his hands clenched into his fists and pressed to his chest in an effort to hold them back in restraint. Fear, sadness and anger blanketed him in the cover of night, but he didn’t know how he still managed to go_ do-do _as it started dying down, too exhausted from his inner wreckings to be aware of the sound of choking fading into the night._

_And it was only when he came down the next morning to find Father sitting grimly at the kitchen table, Mother nowhere to be found, that he quickly realised he shouldn’t have gone to sleep._

_“She’s gone.”_

_For once, he dared to speak._

_“Where is she?”_

_Father did not respond. Even when his voice got louder as it repeated the same question, it fell on ears that became purposefully deaf in disregard to the pleas of a child demanding to know where his mother went. Such an act would have already earned him a thrashing, which was why his silence at the moment made everything a lot more ominous and much scarier. But all Father did was get up from the table and head straight to his room, locking the doors and continuing to ignore the cries of his son even as he pounded on the wood with weak fists and screamed for his mother through tears._

_The crying carried on into the night and Father never once left the room. He wondered what he must be doing to not come out and beat him senseless for all the noise he was making. Was he mourning too, perhaps? If he was, then how dare he. No, he couldn’t possibly be mourning. Father had no heart in him to do so. Father had no right to mourn for being the monster that he was to that fragile woman that was his wife and the mother of his child._

_That same child who was now curled up into a tight ball in his room, crying into himself as his mind broke into shambles, so wracked in a fear that he had never once been familiar with until then._

_The fear of loneliness._

_Now, he was truly and utterly alone._

_\---_

_He did whatever he could to avoid being around there for long, and being a_ newsie _had been the best option._

_The routine of having to get up before the crack of dawn and being out in the town until the sun had set gave him that opportunity. On top of that, it gave him the chance to see New Orleans in its hustle and bustle. He never did often have the opportunity to do so in his younger years, and it made him regret not being able to bask in such a beautiful city as the one he lived in._

_And it was within the streets of the said beautiful city during another day of yelling out headlines to promote sales when an elderly gentleman came up to him._

_“Say, kid. Did anyone tell you that’s quite the voice you got there?”_

_Such a strange incident, so unlike the usual silent exchange of coin and paper that usually took place between him and his clients. But it was an interesting turn of a regular day, nonetheless._

_“A few times, sir.”_

_Yes, he had received many compliments for his eloquence in speech, clear in his adopted trans-Atlantic accent that he had picked up. Well-spoken with the gift of the gab beyond many his year, and his expressiveness allowing for a decent and interesting conversation with whoever engages him in one._

_The man nodded as if to affirm what he already knew. “You got the sort that’ll be_ keen _for the radio.”_

_That simple statement was like the murmur of a dead woman telling him something of the same nature so many years ago, weighing his heart down to heaviness that did not sit well in his chest._

_Alas, weakness for the past was not a good look on him, and neither was the reminiscence of someone long gone. He’s learnt to keep a straight face to not let any inkling of sadness show, only raising both brows in curiosity._

_“But the radio’s been banned.”_

_“Oh, not for long!” the old man exclaimed with a smile. “Congress is planning to lift it, so it’ll only be a matter of time before we’ve got the waves going all around New Orleans again!”_

_He didn’t know if it was true or not, but it sent his heart a-fluttering. It’s been so long since he’d been without the radio that just the thought of it coming back brought excitement to his features. But his glee was enhanced by the praise he had received at the thought of sounding good for such a glorious thing._

_“You really think that I’ll be good for the radio, sir?”_

_“Well, I sure do,” the man nodded with a toothy grin. “A shame that you’re still a youngin', though. I’d like to put you on the waves.”_

_A simple statement of resignation and the gentleman thought it to be the end of their little conversation as he was about to take his leave._

_“Could I still try it out when I’m older, sir?”_

_The gentleman paused in his step and turned back to the young boy who now had eager eyes and a jolly smile. Such a sight turned his lips upwards at seeing such an excitable young lad._

_“Maybe when you’re a little bigger. I might not be around by then, though. Age catching up to me, you see. But I bet my boy will think the same once he takes over the place.”_

_He began to feel something that he hadn’t felt in such a long time - something like a sense of purpose. With this newfound aspiration came a hopefulness that he had been devoid of for so long, giving him the need to be sure as heck that he was going to make it a reality._

_But when the gentleman placed his hand on the top of his head to give his hair a little ruffle, it was a surge of panic that had him immediately recoil from his touch, holding up the newspaper as if it were a shield to protect himself. He did not like the feeling of touch, even with how innocent it was._

_It kind of soured the short bout of happiness he experienced, much to his dismay._

_\---_

_He missed the jambalaya and the gumbo and the etouffee and all the dishes that Mother used to make, but all he could do best for himself and Father were meats that he found on his days out._

_He didn’t catch them by means of traps. Rather, it was with a lot of patience and just a skill for stalking quietly to be able to catch them by surprise. His grip always had to be quick enough but there were few times in the start when the creature escaped his grasp. But when he was lucky, he showed no hesitation to end his unlucky victim._

_When he first started, it was out of the need to put food in his and Mother’s stomachs, and it was the look on Mother’s face when he caught a good catch that made it worth it for him to continue. This time, the motives were no longer as innocent. The need to survive, to get enough to feed the monster and not risk another harsh beating, was driven by desperation._

“Think you’re living under my roof for free? Earn your god-damn keep, good-for-nothing piece of shit.” 

_He absolutely hated it._

_And that hatred made him bolder in his motives, and much more ruthless._

_There was a litter deer that had the unfortunate circumstance of having one of its hinds pinned under a fallen tree branch. Its cries were what drew him to the scene, and its relief at the thought of being rescued was broken quickly by the sight of a knife in his hand._

_Poor deer. It just wanted to be free and live._

_Alas, there was no sympathy as he gazed down at the struggling creature with eyes hardened from experience and forlornness._

_But there was no denying that there was something about the look of fright that it had that gave him a sense of satisfaction somewhat. That feeling of being in control, that empowerment over something that he deemed weaker than him, that sensation that for once he could have the upper-hand._

_The perfect way to relieve some pent-up frustration._

_He straddled the deer, but overestimated his strength when he was quickly thrown off as the animal started thrashing about. He was quick to recover, using every bit of strength to keep a chokehold on the deer’s neck, blade of the knife already pressed against its fur. The cut was messy as it embedded deep in its flesh and pulled it across to split skin, the nauseating sound of muscle and tissue being torn apart and blood spurting out in noisy wetness was drowned out by the cry of the deer in its last breath that was intermingled with the sounds of his heavy breathing._

_He hated the reason why he had to do such heinous things out of his desperation._

_But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy that feeling of blood on his hands._

_\---_

_‘The Axeman’ shook New Orleans to its core. Never once had he ever witnessed a town so rattled up until the string of murders left behind by a mysterious entity on the prowl. When he wasn’t yelling out the headlines, he found himself reading the articles for himself about this fascinating being. It impressed him, how this mysterious man could rile up New Orleans with a simple threat and demand for ragtime to be playing on the one particular night of March 19._

_The streets were loud with jazz that wafted through the sinister air, and there was something about that atmosphere that would have had his blood rushing in a particular way which made him want to go out and parade the streets like the unknown killer likely still stalking the streets. How admirable it was such an individual had to have such guts to leave bodies to be found and make the whole city pissing their knickers. He would salute such a person and give them praise for their audacity in exchange for mercy._

_Mercy. Such a foreign concept to him, because what was mercy when there he was lying on the cold wooden boards all bloodied and bruised like always?_

_There was no one to rub the soothing balms or say sweet things or smooth his lips back into a smile. He could only wish that even the ghost of such notions would come to him. They never did, and it left him to lay still on the hard-wood floors, not sure whether or not to wish that his raspy breathing would cease and that he need not have to wake to another excruciating day._

_Limp and weakened as he was as he stood against the counter chopping vegetables, unable to revel in the terror that wafted through the streets of New Orleans as he set about preparing dinner. It would have to be a simple vegetable soup tonight because he wasn’t in any condition to do a bit of ‘hunting, and the curfew set by the police made him stuck at home._

_Stuck with him._

_Speak of the Devil, now came the sound of his heavy footsteps stomping down the stairs and right into the kitchen. He did not turn around, but he already could feel Father’s glare almost burning a hole into the back of his head._

_“Where’s dinner?”_

_No answer came from the sound of the knife blade bluntly hitting chipped wood as he chopped old carrots into imperfect slices. Both out of mental exhaustion and the pain that still lingered his throat, he could not answer._

_“You deaf, boy?”_

_He heard him loud and clear and he knew that he should answer. But for some reason, he just couldn’t. Or more like he didn’t want to. The tone of voice had already confirmed what he would expect and it was inevitable._

_Like always, he had no time to react until the sole of a heavy boot was planted firmly on his back to kick him hard into the countertop. The wind effectively knocked out of him as he fell to the hard tiled floor, and it was just as quickly that a shower of kicks rained down on him._

_He should be shouting in pain or crying for help, but he was sure no one would come to his aid. No outsider ever did come to investigate the years of abuse that came from within this house, and there was probably more concern towards the purpose behind the loud music ringing through the streets. He could hear it faintly in the distance but no doubt that it would have drowned him out._

_So, he did nothing._

_Let his mind become empty, numbed out from the pain. Let himself become adrift in the pain that washed over him and broke him throughout his being._

_That somehow riled up Father more._

_He moved to straddle him at the abdomen, putting his entire weight on him that guaranteed no escape. He could feel what little air he had left in him pushed out by the sudden burden on his fragile body, but it only became worse when thick hands came down to wrap around his scrawny neck, fingers digging into the skin as it tightened in grip and effectively cut off air._

_“I’ll show you, boy. I’ve killed people on the bloody ground of Hell itself. You’d be just another hit.”_

_Head spinning, sight blurring; that was what he clearly could remember as he felt his consciousness slowly being lost as his life started slipping away. Flecks of black spots started appearing through his vision that became filled with tears of terror._

_He did not want to die._

_Not like this._

_Not by him._

_His hands searched aimlessly in its frenzy, slapping the ground helplessly in hopes of finding something to aid that could help him. Something. Anything. No matter how big or how small it was. He just needed just one thing._

_His fingertips touched something solid and sturdy._

_He swung._

_And then he froze._

_Because it wasn’t until the first quick swipe that he realised what he had just done. But by then, the slash of the knife had been clean across both of Father’s eyes, sending a spurt of warm blood splashing onto his face_

_A howl of anguish rang out so loud that he thought it caused the floor to shake until he realised Father recoiling away in pain, his hands torn from his neck. Air returned to his lungs and he gasped out loud, coughing so painfully that his throat burned with every inhale and exhale he exercised._

_“_ **_FUCKIN’ CUNT!”_ **

_Father pounced._

_He was quicker this time. Forcing himself to get up, he immediately launched off the balls of his feet right at Father, sending him to the ground with him on top. This time, there was no overestimating his limits to have Father pinned down, but he wasn’t taking his chances before jabbing the knife into his shoulder._

_Each stab brought a loud cry of pain, hurting his ears so badly that he was almost desperate to have him stop. Again, and again, and again did the knife continue to imbed into hi_ _s body in his desperate attempt to impair him from doing anything to fight back._

 _“_ **_PLEASE! STOP!_ ** _”_

_He actually did, because there was something about that cry that was so strange that he was compelled to take a look._

_What he saw would be a sight that he could never imagine to ever witness._

_A man that had always put up the facade of violent bravado, now twisted up so badly as he cried with fear oozing out of his every pore, his sobs breaking out of him so raw that it was almost disturbing. His head was violently quivering as were his hands that now were rendered weak with the inability to throw a punch as it usually would._

_So pathetic. So very, ridiculously pathetic. How little did it take for an abuser to become a prey. Such a whiny coward hiding in that huge body which fueled his nightmares like a boogeyman no child could ever imagine. Because reality has proven to be worse than even the most dreadful dreams ever could._

_Did it really take this little for the tides to reverse so? For him to be the hunter, and for the hunter to be the prey? For him to raise from being the mauled puppy, to the hound ripping apart his so-called provider?_

_How great it felt. All that power. All that pent up frustration and pure hatred just pouring out of him, like an overflowing river, one to never run dry. No pleas of the one woman they both loved, or at least claimed to love, there to stop him._

_The time for retribution was nigh, and to find himself in the role of a revenger gave him a high like nothing before. No rabbits could compare. No cats. And, as he would found out later, no other screams of pain could bring him as much comfort, be such an ailment for his broken, tormented heart, as the pain of the man who caused him to turn the way he later did. The man which caused the misery._

_The man who was Hell, and deserved nothing less than what the seventh circle would gladly be willing to offer._

_Just the thought of it made him..._

You know you’re never fully dressed without a smile!

_It made him stretch his lips so wide to show teeth that were gnashed together in a grin, showing a sort of happiness that he had never got to revel in_

_Each sickening stab, each yell of terror, each cry of mercy - everything was music to his ears! As he bathed in the warmth of fresh sticky blood, his throat chortled with laughter that was so unbecoming of him._

_Father may have killed in Hell, but he was born and raised in it._

_He didn’t know what came over him._

_Years of repression?_

_The sudden adrenaline?_

_The need to survive?_

_He couldn’t be too sure._

_But for that moment, he didn’t question anything when he chucked that knife aside and reached out to grip Father’s face tight in his hands as he sunk his teeth into his throat._

_Tender flesh was gnashed in his teeth, feeling hot and sticky on his tongue like the blood that sprayed his entire front. Saliva dripped down his chin as he spat that chunk of meat out, letting it coat in the blood that flowed out from Father’s mouth, gurgling in the back of his throat as he slowly started to choke. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he could only speak through those pathetically fearful eyes._

_“You mute,_ **_Father_ ** _?” He smirked with maniacal glee._

_He knew that there would be no answer, and he was content with the silence as Father fell limp onto the ground, eyes lifeless yet wide as it froze in a permanent state of ghoulish terror. His blood continued to stream out and stain the crevices of the tiled floor, staining his entire body in the liquid that flowed hot through his veins and was now turning cold in his state. He was a revolting sight, finally reflecting the man within._

_Finally…_

_The deserved retribution._

_The catharsis that he craved._

_The end to his suffering._

_But… maybe not quite the end._

_He was still hungry._

_No..._

_He was_ **_starving._ **

* * *

It’s been a while since he allowed himself to recollect memories, ones occupying the deepest and darkest recesses of his mind for the longest of times.

And no wonder.

What could make a man turn out this way? How could a naturally charming, charismatic man become nothing more than a vile monster? He heard these questions asked on more than one occasion, and suspected they must have haunted some unfortunate fellows’ minds to maybe an even greater extent. He never satisfied their curiosity. Not because he was avoiding a supposedly complicated answer; no, not in the least, as it was quite simple, really. Negative actions create negative characteristics, some to the point of being virtually destructive. The culpability for the repetitive trauma a child went through during its formative days was not on the broken adult the little one turned into, but on its parents. At least in his eyes, an innocent was hardly to blame. How could he have grown up to be a different man, with the only ideals to look up to being a crazed cruelty of one man, and the other a woman’s pathetic weakness?

Ah, Mother. He loved her still, and no doubt he missed her dearly. He realized her mistakes back then, too, but now, older and wiser himself, he could see them in their whole, glistening _shame_. She was stuck, but not in a way which would forcibly prevent her from putting her foot down and lamming off the first chance she got, rather than compelling them both to be subjected to emotional and physical abuse. Mother had a choice, but refused to make one. Staying and making up excuses for that bastard’s behavior was easier. And perhaps, for her, martyrdom was the highest form of ‘love’ one could ever reach on the earthly plane.

How foolish.

But, wasn’t he a hypocrite to criticize her, as he joyfully followed in her step, betraying his ideals for something as trivial as gently stroking a woman’s fair neck, rather than doing what he should and squeezing the life out of it?

In the soft glow of a rainy morning, Charlie’s face was one of unperturbed peace as she slept. 

Alastor reached out to feel the softness of her cheek on the tips of his fingers, and he watched his digits trail down until the pad of his thumb touched her full bottom lip. He gently caressed the soft skin and felt her gentle breathing fan his skin. 

Isn’t this what Mother must have felt? Is that why she chose to stay by the side of the brute he felt nauseous to address as ‘Father’? But why? Why would she choose to succumb to this?

Why would _he_ choose to succumb to this?

It made him weak. It made him frightened. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to have learnt far better control. He wasn’t meant to repeat the cycle.

But, in his eyes, the power still lied within his hands. Maybe the way he understood it changed, no longer being the one he would expect in his bloodthirsty tendencies - but in the way his heart was full of tenacity for the pure, innocent woman laying beside him. The woman who loved him and cared for him, as he loved and cared for her.

Maybe, just maybe, such a thing wouldn’t be so bad. He had learnt enough of what must and must not be done when it came to dealings of the heart - for one to be able to revel in it, but not so much as to be turned into a pathetic, hopeless fool. Mother had loved even when she shouldn’t. Was he turning out the same? He wanted to know, but he couldn’t. Only the anticipation and fear of the pain to come there to haunt him, if he continued going down the route he was at.

Until he met her, control was all he needed. He hated the unexpected. He hated being swayed on the swing of emotions, and succumbing to the concepts foreign to him. Oh, how much this little creature has changed. Was he still the same person, if he was willing to try to be a better man?

 _Could_ he be a better man?

And what did it even mean? Such were his thoughts, as he laid there in the dimness of a new day, a broken grown-up boy, reminiscing the sadder days, and anxiously expecting an even more miserable future. 

But then, a knock on the door roused him from his stupor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was by far the most mentally-challenging and gruelling chapter for me, and I think you readers can understand why.
> 
> There's a lot of heavy stuff going on here - stuff that if you have read in full and will still want to continue on this journey, I applaud you. All of this was not easy to imagine and envision and transfer all those thoughts into words, but I had to in order to bring justice and justification to Alastor's character as a whole - the root of his evil. 
> 
> It was honestly so difficult for me to have this written down that I had to take a pause and a breather several times, thus the delay (along with an assignment due at the same time). But for this, I really have to thank Frumpy (@frumpy_furby) for specially co-writing this with me and making sure I've got the timelines of the flashbacks in order (the history buff that she is!) 
> 
> And! I'd like to thank lovely Loonette (@Loonette3) for her marvellous paintings of Alastor and Charlie, giving our little lovebirds a true calm before this particular storm! 
> 
> Alas, far readers, the story will pick up once again. But before it does, please note that I do not condone any of the acts committed by both Alastor and his father, and it was only done purely for fictional purposes. If any of you find this exceptionally triggering chapter troubling, I sincerely apologise and hope that this hadn't caused you too much pain.


	55. Getting In A Lather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

“Alastor?”

Charlie’s voice mumbled from the sheets as she raised her head from the pillow to see Alastor heading towards the door quietly. He glanced at her over his shoulder and put a finger to his lips, and it was just then that a loud series of knocks sounded out muffled from the furthest part of the house.

“Stay here, darling. I’ll go see who that is.”

Charlie obediently stayed put and quiet as Alastor exited the room and closed the door behind him. Light and careful were his steps down the stairs as though to not cause even a single creak that might alert the unexpected visitor to his presence. With each step down, each knock became louder in its persistent. Whoever was on the other side of that front door certainly was being impatient and it brought Alastor’s nerves on end and his heart pounding as loud as those knocks.

He knew that it was not a good idea to open that door, considering how anything that’s come to his door has been pretty much of an unpleasant surprise; except Charlie, he’ll have to admit. But not answering it would only prolong the inevitable, and with all the inconveniences that have been happening his way, he didn’t stand the patience to be waiting around in suspense, so sick and tired of keeping himself in unnecessary tension.

So he grabbed the doorknob and gave it a twist, cracking the door open gently and taking a peek outside…

… And with a skip of a heartbeat in a bout of panic, wanted to slam it shut if it were for a hand suddenly planting itself firmly on the wood. 

Why was he not surprised that despite his small stature, the Big Apple was quite strong in his hold?

"My, Mr Carlon! Is this how you usually greet your guests? Shoving the door in the faces when they  _ buzz  _ up to you?" 

Lucifer Magne asked that question with that chilling smile of his, contrary to the grimness of his narrowed eyes. That look threw Alastor off enough to be too stunned to keep his hold on the door, his hand going slack and allowing Lucifer to push it open further to reveal that he was not alone. 

The perturbed eyes of Vaggie were already fixed on his when he dared to take his eyes off Lucifer to acknowledge her presence. She was standing at the bottom of the foyer with the clear hesitation of not wanting to take a step closer to his door or her employer who was still having his amused and deadly gaze fixed on him. 

Lucifer took a step into his foyer without waiting for an invitation, but an invitation could not possibly be given with how stunned Alastor was at this sudden appearance. 

“Nice place. A little darb, but not too shabby.”

The swing of his cane and the bounce in his step did not exhibit the same rigidity that had a grip on Alastor and Vaggie, keeping them on edge with nerves that intensified when the man dressed in white turned in his step to face Alastor with an expression that was truly the epitome of ‘if looks could kill’. 

“But while I wish that my visit today could simply be about discussing home decor, I’m here for much more pressing matters…”

It was amazing how that look alone kept Alastor in his place, held only by the intensity of a killing stare as the Big Apple took slow but intimidating steps up to his face. Even when he had to be looking up at him, Lucifer’s eyes maintained the hold of Alastor’s gaze with the underlying threat that no good will come to him if he dared look away, demanding compliance when he asked one question in an eerily collected voice. 

“Where’s Charlie?”

Alastor hoped that his poker face game was strong as he said nothing - more out of defiance rather than a sense of fear. He did not wish to divulge that information for Charlie’s sake, despite knowing the trouble that would befall upon him if he did not spill the beans. Trouble that was starting to show in Lucifer’s lips pursing just the slightest bit as he suddenly took his cane off the floor and gripped the shaft with both hands, his manner of one holding a sort of weapon that’s brandished to attack. 

However, before he could deliver another warning before the planned blow of his cane, a loud voice cut him off desperately. 

“Daddy, stop!”

Damn it.

All three pair of eyes darted to the top of the stairs where Charlie was starting to descend hastily, and to see her donning Alastor’s robe certainly was not an appreciative sight to her father whose eye was starting to twitch at the knowledge of what  **exactly** Alastor did to his daughter. 

Charlie did not notice the look on her father’s face - if she did, she was probably ignoring it in favour of the look that Vaggie was giving her, making her heart skip a beat in dread.

Betrayal was clear in her dark eyes, anger buried underneath her broken gaze.

She knew what she had coming next.

She wasn’t prepared for it.

But right now, her concern was Alastor. 

“Daddy… I understand you’re upset. But please, let’s just settle this between us,” she spoke to Lucifer in a placating manner as she put herself between both men. “Leave Alastor out of this.”

She did not see how Vaggie winced at the protectiveness of her tone like it was a literal stab to her aching heart. 

Lucifer, however, only returned a blank stare that told her that he was in no mood to listen to her explanation or justifications, not even acknowledging what was said to him before saying out loud to the maid, “Vaggie, take Charlie home this instant.”

Vaggie did not act immediately on the command because her eyes were looking at the scene of Charlie and Alastor with such crestfallen despair that would have seemed like disappointment to Charlie if not for the fact that Alastor knew it was pure broken-heartedness. 

For a moment, he groaned internally at the wasted opportunity this moment was for him to not be able to savour the look on that miserable girl’s face now that he had gained the upper hand of humiliating her in her stupid affections for her best friend. He would never be able to cherish this self-proclaimed victory.

Charlie, on the other hand, was adamant in staying where she was, resistant to the demands of her father out of fear of what would happen if the two men were to be left alone. 

“Daddy, please. Alastor didn’t do anything wrong. He just-”

The sound of the cane’s heel hitting the floorboard loudly forced the room into silence, making Charlie jolt and Alastor swallowing the lump that he did not realise had formed in his throat. Vaggie’s eyes finally tore off Charlie’s to see Lucifer a few more degrees stone-cold in his silent demand for obedience.

“Charlotte. Go home.”

The simplified command was bellowed out, but not angrily; more dour and stony-faced to show her father’s utmost disappointment. Biting enough to have Charlie flinch, her resolve breaking for worry of his wrath.

“Go home, Charlie.”

Both father and daughter darted eyes to Alastor, who finally spoke for the first time since he opened the door. His voice was quiet and gentle and his smile was soft as he asked Charlie with that look to do as she was told. 

And it was with Alastor’s insistence that she finally relented, albeit reluctantly. She felt a sense of hopelessness of not being able to do more to help her lover in this situation, but she understood that matters would only become worse if she did not give in. 

But before she turned to the door, she looked at her father. To Lucifer’s surprise, her perpetually soft eyes were hot as she glared in a silent warning that she would not be happy if he were to do anything to Alastor. Lucifer only gave back a hard stare of his own that followed Charlie’s back as she finally exited the house, closing the door behind her.

Now that they were alone within the confines of this wall, their business will be kept privy to the outside and there was no telling what could possibly go down between them. 

“Really got a lot of balls to still look me in the eye when you’ve just fucked my daughter.”

But one thing’s for certain - Big Apple or not, Alastor wasn’t going to let anybody browbeat him under his own roof.

“Rather fucked than the other thing, I’d say.”

Alastor supposed that he had it coming, but it still caught him off-guard when the end of the wooden cane found its way rammed right into his gut, hitting sensitive muscles with a force that could cost a few vessels. Doubled over at the contact as his breath knocked out of him immediately with sprays of spittle, his knees buckled under him and down he went to the floor. Immediately then he was gasping for air, but it was tainted by the taste of bile - and the dull ache that was starting to burn from his abdomen. 

Through blurry and teary eyes, Alastor looked up at Lucifer. His hellish stare bore into him with lips pulled back in a displeased grimace

“That’s nothing compared to what I had in mind to do to you if that was the case.”

His breathing started to turn harsh as the pain burned him from inside, now accompanied by the burn of anger at the insolence of this bastard to dare take him on. The murderous instinct that had always sat in Alastor’s core was acting up now, making him jerk up to get back on his feet with his hands itching to attack the short bastard.

But then the same end of the cane that had rammed him in the gut was now planted on his shoulder to bring him back down. That one hit to the gut had rendered him strengthless, unable to withstand even the little force that had him pinned back down to the floor.

“Try anything and I’ll make sure I still see it through, Carlon.”

Surprisingly, Lucifer took the cane off him immediately before walking off in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Alastor on the floor to regain his bearings and catch what little breath he could. For a moment, all he could do was stare up at the ceiling and focus on his breaths, the task proving much more difficult with how fast his heart was racing. He could feel the thudding of his heartbeat on the floor and it almost echoed through the ringing in his ears. 

When he remembered that the kitchen was where he kept the knives, the beating got harder and the noise became louder, and it was in a rushed instant that breathing properly be damned as Alastor forced himself back on his feet to scramble in that direction. 

Again, the cane found itself on his shoulder, but it took little to no force to stop him in his tracks as Lucifer reappeared at the doorway, calmly returning - much to Alastor’s utter relief and utmost confusion - with a saucer in hand and that same stone-faced expression.

“Relax, boy. All this bullshit is just making my tongue itch for a smoke.”

Alastor watched him walk past and take a seat on the steps of the stairs, putting the saucer down beside him and letting his cane rest against the wall as he fished a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches out of his jacket pocket. He shook out two sticks and put them between his lips as he lit a match to light both  _ gaspers _ , sucking in to take that first drag before removing one to hold out to Alastor. The younger man looked at the thing suspiciously like he was just offered poison, and he was right in his mind to wonder why the hell was this man offering him a cigarette after giving him a good blow to inebriate him in an instant. 

His bewilderment only made Lucifer roll his eyes. “I don’t want to waste a good  _ gasper _ ,” was all he said as he gestured, insistent in his gesture that Alastor gingerly took it from his fingers. 

It was such a strange picture of the two men, whom just mere seconds ago were faced in a one-sided physical altercation, but was now quietly smoking with only the soft burning of cigarette paper and tobacco hanging between them. Ash was flicked onto the saucer - he did have an ashtray somewhere in the kitchen that he placed elsewhere when setting up for breakfast, but whatever - and smoke wafted around their heads like clouds of the thoughts that must be running through their minds. 

“Jesus, what a fuckin’ mess. Lilith’s not gonna be happy.”

There was an exasperation that did not befit the threatening situation that was currently happening; that of a father that had been prompted by an irate wife to clean up the mess that his young emotional daughter had caused. 

“I would assume that she’s told you why.” 

“That she did,” Alastor simply replied, recalling the conversation over breakfast when he had asked her exactly that. From his gut was now a dull ache, and his breathing was now steady through puffs of smoke nicotine. 

“Can’t say I blame her though. Those Von Eldriches were straight talking out of their asses at our damn dinner table.” An irate drag followed. “The nerve.” 

At least the two men could agree on Charlie’s reasons for being annoyed. Alastor couldn’t help himself from being a little bit curious though. 

“Would you consider it though?”

“What? That Von Eldrich kid?” 

Alastor hummed, and Lucifer shrugged. “I’m not the sort of  _ dapper  _ to give much of a damn about what sort of  _ bozo  _ Charlie wants. Not the sort.”

“Well, she tells me that he’s insistent.”

“And?” Lucifer questioned. “That’s not on me, but on her. Charlie trusted her instincts to leave the scum the first time so I can trust her to be wise in choosing a partner.”

But the statement was realised to not be right to say when Lucifer trailed his steel gaze back to Alastor, instantly remembering the state that Charlie had been in when she came down the stairs. That pang of irritation came back full force, driven by doubt at his earlier proclamation that now did not sit right with him. 

“Though it seems that I’ll have to reconsider that now.”

That sounded like a warning and rightfully so. 

Alastor did not give a response, deciding to hold his tongue in a bid to not push his luck any further with the Big Apple’s current mood changes. Taking his final drag right down to the filter, he just politely finished up his cigarette and butted it out onto the saucer, and the older man did the same.

“I do appreciate your courtesy.” The grimace on Lucifer’s face was a clear indication that he wanted to end this conversation. “I’ve already got one  _ palooka  _ I had to deal with back in my house, I’d rather not be dealing with that here too. I have much more important issues to settle with you.”

Alastor frowned. “That little snitch already told on me and you got your little girl back home. What else is there to settle?” 

Lucifer raised a brow in confusion until he realized that Alastor had meant Vaggie, and he shook his head.

“Vaggie wasn’t the one to tell me that Charlie was here, Carlon. You can thank a couple of buttinskys for wanting to play a little game with you.”

He didn’t need to drop names for Alastor to know who exactly he was referring to, and realise what exactly he meant. 

“Did a whole stake-out without my permission. Val was makin’ an awful lot of noise about her disappearing into your house. Quite stupid, if you ask me. As much as his and Vox’s little game of mischief got me  _ knowing my onions _ about my daughter, now I gotta settle their mess for them.” He sighed out in irritation as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a frown. “Let’s just get this over and done with. So, where is she?

For the second time since his arrival, Alastor could not bring himself to speak. All he could think to himself was how he could have been so careless to slip-up his little rendezvous with Charlie by not suspecting that those two bastards could be staking out in the neighbourhood. 

And how in his hesitation to answer alone had he inevitably gave away the indication of what had happened to the prostitute.

“You done and did it, didn’t you?”

At first, Lucifer’s reaction was subtle - like just the mere thought was nothing of him,

But then his lips suddenly cracked into an intrigued grin.

“Show me.”

* * *

Throughout that short trip from Alastor’s front door to hers, she could feel Vaggie’s eyes bore into her back. She walked right behind her the whole time and that made Charlie so uncomfortable because it made her feel like some  _ hood  _ that’s being led away and Vaggie’s the  _ bull  _ that’s making sure she didn’t try to  _ lam  _ off from the  _ can  _ that was supposed to be her house. 

The closing of the door was quiet and not the slamming that she had expected, but Charlie still dared not look behind to her friend as they stood in the foyer in continued silence. The silence was more on Charlie’s part, choosing to not say anything because of knowing how things will go like the last time.

“... Really?..”

Vaggie's small voice had anger undeniably boiling underneath, but Charlie continued to remain silent. 

“Him? Again? Really?”

Silence again.

“After everything… After everything, you promised me… You still had the heart to do it again?” 

Silence still but the push was becoming to shove that sent Charlie’s lips trembling to part in her verge to breaking, worsening even more so when Vaggie’s voice rose a pitch.

“Answer me, Charlie.”

“What do you want me to say, Vaggie? That I’m sorry? Because I am but if I did say it, you and I both know what’s still going to happen.”

As much as she didn’t want to, Charlie finally turned around to face the situation head-on. It was upon seeing that Vaggie was already crying, her bronze face reddened with the glisten of tears tracks that streamed messily down her cheeks, that her guilt grew tenfold and her exasperation died out instantly.

“I’m sorry, Vaggie…”

But she was right to guess that Vaggie wouldn’t have listened. “I don’t understand… Again… You lied to me again…”

Charlie did not like the reminder that she did and she knew that it would be the only thing that Vaggie was going to be hung up on. Her growing discomfort made the back of her tongue taste of bile, completely impairing any effort to sugarcoat anything at this point. 

“I know I did… And I’m sorry… But I just… I just can’t deny it anymore, Vaggie. I wanted to be with Alastor.”

Charlie had remained collected despite her composure increasingly threatening to break. The truth had been a hard lump in the back of her throat, the guilt weighing down heavily in her heart. But she forced it out for the sake of fessing up and coming clean with everything. It was not the easiest thing to do, but it was right. She had already been caught redhanded for the second time and was already too far gone in this predicament that keeping things hidden would do no good. What she had done, she cannot undo, and she needed to make up for that even through the smallest ways, and confession was definitely the first. 

Of course, Vaggie was in no state to take that lightly. Now, Charlie could see just how much the hurt had marred her features, bleeding into her cracked voice made of nothing but pure pain as she asked, “Why?”

Still on the intent of coming clean, what more could Charlie say?

“Because I like him, Vaggie. I really like him.”

She dared not say ‘love’ She knew better than to throw that word around so lightly. But it did not seem to matter, because just the term of ‘like’ had been enough to increase Vaggie’s agitation. 

Though, now she was reconsidering if she should have even said that at all. 

“ _ Por el amor de Dios _ , Charlie!  **Why?!** ”

The shout was an assault to the atmosphere and Vaggie’s anger rose Charlie’s tension in an instant. The sharp rise of her voice coupled with tense muscles pushing Vaggie to go up to her friend’s face, getting right in to force her to see what this betrayal had done to fuel the raging fires of despair in her eyes, hell-bent on making sure that she received a piece of her mind. 

“You ‘like’ him?! Are you fucking shitting with me right now?! The man fucked you over and nearly ruined everything between us! And you’re just going back to him like nothing happened?! Like breaking my trust meant nothing to you?!”

Pain was clear in her shout, and the anger was a consequence of the pain; betrayed, hurt, saddened, broken. Vaggie in this state was dangerous, and it made Charlie so very scared. It made her hesitant to thread into the conversation despite knowing that she had to, foreseeing all the comeuppance that was coming for her and how dangerous things will be the longer Vaggie fed on her rage.

“I know it does, but I’m not one to hang onto grudges when things could get settled... And it has settled, Vaggie. Between Alastor and I. It was all a misunderstanding and he’s-”

“‘He’s’ what? He’s got you crawling back to him like he wanted you to? All that talk and look at you, giving in to him all over again. How shameless can you get?”

Charlie knew that Vaggie’s temper tended to get out-of-control, but she was just hitting it below the belt so venomously that the turmoil was almost strangling her, making her difficult to keep breathing in the air that was tainted by Vaggie’s bitterness. 

And it was in that bitterness that Vaggie pressed on in her vehemence to make sense of this distraught. “Why did you go back to him?!” she demanded to know harshly. “For fucks sake, why is he so important to you?! Why does it have to be him?!”

“Vaggie, please… I don’t want to fight with you… I want you to understand but please… Don’t be like this…”

“ You have me! Aren’t I enough?! Wasn’t I there for you when nobody else was?! But what now?! You’re going to throw me away for Alastor Carlon?!”

“Vaggie, I’m not doing that...Please, stop it…”

“Why won’t you listen to me?! Why does everyone here take my word like it’s a complete load of bullshit?! At least Angel had the decency to leave when I told him he was -”

“What?”

Suddenly Vaggie’s screaming tirade came to an abrupt halt. By then, something changed at that moment so quickly that it was enough to have their current affectivities come to a standstill and leave both in trepidation in what was about to unravel. 

“Vaggie… Did you make Angel leave the hotel?”

There was no heat in that question, only just a quiet unsettlement. It made Vaggie gape like a fish out of water, at a loss for words at what had been asked for her. She did not know what came over her to have her rendered unable to think, but it was probably the eyes that were searching hers anxiously for a truth that she was unwilling to divulge. 

When she did reply, it came out as an obvious sputter of an excuse. “This isn’t about Angel right now! This is about you and Alastor, and the both of you-”

“Answer me, Vaggie.”

Just a mere minute ago, Charlie was the one getting cut off and screamed at. Now, the tables have turned sans the screaming, because she was trying hard to keep a levelled head to make sense of what she was beginning to suspect. 

“Did you tell Angel to leave?”

Vaggie doesn’t answer immediately and her silence stretched on the longest this time, but Charlie could see the subtle changes. She was tighter and rigid as she started closing in on herself, her eyes would not meet hers with the fiery tenacity that she held just a moment prior, and her lips were pressed into a thin line like she refused to speak.

So, Charlie knew. 

“Why?... Why would you make him leave, Vaggie? What did he ever do to you?”

Even though she was clearly put in a guilty position by that quivering question, Vaggie answered her through gritted teeth, “Not what he did to me, but more what he’s doing to you. He wasn’t any good for you, Charlie. He was making use of you and the hotel, and getting high off his ass and not putting in any actual effort in changing for the better.”

She knew she had a point, and she hoped that Charlie had some rationality to understand that. But at this rate, rationality was lost to both of them as emotions took the reins of control in both their headspaces. Charlie’s eyes were immobile with the rest of her face as she struggled to absorb what had just been told, and it took a few whole seconds of tense anticipation until a grimace appeared with a narrowed frown.

“How dare you do that to him, Vaggie.”

Charlie glared with an intensity that made Vaggie’s chest tight, looking down at her with anger starting to blur her sight. Her jaw was tightened as it portrayed a growing ire with perhaps a hint of disgust, all of which was not easily received by the one on the receiving end of it. 

“How dare I?” Vaggie shot back in outrage. “I did what had to be done!”

“No, you didn’t, because that didn’t need to happen!” Charlie snapped back. “You can’t just throw him out, and behind my back at that!”

“You really want to talk about going behind backs right now, Charlie?” Vaggie spat venomously, offended at the audacity that Charlie had to fight with her on this. “I’m not the one going back on promises and lying for some bastard. All I did was get rid of a terrible patient.”

Charlie knew that Vaggie had a right to be upset right now - she had more than a right when she absolutely deserved to express herself after what she had done. But this time, she could not allow the gaslighting to excuse her best friend for the cruel and unfair deed that she had committed to an innocent. 

“He’s not just a patient anymore, Vaggie! Angel’s my friend!”

“And a terrible one at that! He encouraged you to lie to me, and he insulted and belittled me. He was ungrateful even after everything we did for him!”

“Despite what he did, Angel didn’t deserve to be kicked out!” 

The air around her felt hot, churned from the anger within that was fighting for defence. The pressure of rage was almost too much for Charlie to handle, but she was unwilling to back down for Angel’s sake. Even if it meant making Vaggie even more insulted that she was willing to raise her voice at her in the changing tides of their argument. 

“Why are you defending him?! Why are you doing this to me?! I’ve done more for you than that bastard ever did, and this is what you do to me?!”

“He was trying so hard, and you ruined that for him!”

Charlie’s voice was reaching a fever pitch, enough to probably shout the whole neighbourhood down from the confines of her home. But again, she was not backing down, not when there was an injustice she felt compelled to fight again, even when it compelled Vaggie to fight back just as hard.

“I didn’t ruin anything for anyone!”

Their shared fury was starting to burn with dangerous intensity - a symphony of hot sparks and shrill tones.

“How could you be so selfish?!” 

It was getting more and more dangerous by the second, and neither one showed any signs of stopping in the beat. 

“It was nothing compared to what you did to me!”

And as the rhythm raged on. 

“How could you do that, Vaggie?! To Angel! To me! How dare you do that?!”

That angry symphony would reach its burning crescendo. 

“Because I know you wouldn’t be able to handle it like how you’ve done a  **shit job** handling that **useless goddamned hotel!** ”

By the time she slapped a hand over her lips, it was already too late. 

The words that were torn out from her mouth were those that she had always been careful in keeping the opinion to herself, but now were out and had ultimately revealed the true opinion she had towards her best friend’s dream. And Vaggie knew instantly from the look in Charlie’s eyes that the words of her opinion had hurt her, just as she feared they would. 

Scorn and ridicule - it was either one or the other when it came to the reception she received to her plans. It was always mockery and humiliation. It had hurt and had always been hurting. But as it just kept going, there really was nothing more she could do but to accept it. The hurt was kept away, masked by a facade of positive indifference that was put to place in her bid to keep herself moving forward in her mission. But even though the words of harsh contempt and disesteeming insults were dull noises to her now, there murmurs still niggled at the back of her mind in subconscious attempts to dissuade her. 

But here and now, she wondered to herself; would she have rathered the direct scorn and ridicule of insignificant strangers than the false pretence of empathy and support from the one she thought she could trust the most? 

It was painful to look at Vaggie now, not because of the betrayal that had stabbed her right in the heart, but because now she could not seem to trust those eyes that were staring at her in desperation. Why was she so desperate? The fact that she could have broken her heart, or because she had undoubtedly revealed the deception of whatever false hopes she held for Charlie? 

Would it have mattered which?

Well, considering that it had still come from the one person she thought she could trust wholeheartedly, then no. It did not matter. 

Because now she revealed that she was no different and no better than any other who had openly disparaged her.

And there was no way Vaggie could get herself out of this one. 

“Charlie…”

“Leave me alone.”

That was not a plea - it was a command. One delivered coldly without even a single glance as Charlie turned away. Vaggie baulked at the reaction, not used to this iciness that her friend displayed - more accustomed to her being remorseful and begging for forgiveness. Those words were powerful; spoken carefully, clear and concise, and carrying an air of finality that followed her as she made her way up the stairs and away from this conversation. 

“Charlie.”

Charlie’s pace up the stairs quickened. 

“Charlie, please!” 

She almost sprinted up the last few stairs and disappeared to the second floor. 

“CHARLIE!”

The only response she got was the sounds of heavy footsteps entering a room before slamming the door shut with such force that almost shook the walls of the house but was enough to shake her core to pull out one final strangled cry.

“ **That bastard made you like this, and you’re stupid for letting him!** ”

Vaggie did not know what to expect. A yell? Some cursing? Crying? She didn’t know, but she was desperate for anything, because the continued silence that followed only crippled her into a new flood of tears at everything having gone to shit and leaving her feeling like she had truly lost the one she loved.

* * *

“Well, I’ll be damned…”

Nothing else followed after his statement of awe, too taken by the gruesome sight of the bloodied and mangled body of the prostitute.

Alastor watched Lucifer taking his time to circle around the mess to take in the sight from all angles, his eyes hovering on the body like he was studying a mesmerising work of art. The Big Apple took in every minute detail; from the slit that was neat and precise across her throat to cut both sets of jugulars, to the blood that was now dried and stained in a downwards flow from that cut onto her fine clothes.

But perhaps, the most peculiar to this certain  _ bump-off _ were her thighs. Incisions in a manner that indicated being cut into neat slices, but only a little bit of her flesh was taken - similar to a manner of carving a slice of ham.

Interesting.

“I had suspected that the little incident with those two  _ rubes  _ had been a mere peculiarity, but you must definitely have a few screws loose to usually be this gruesome, it seems?”

Alastor only smirked. “Barely even the tip of the iceberg.”

“The poor girl. Did she really deserve this, Carlon?”

In truth, no. The  _ skirt _ definitely did not deserve to die here, all none the wiser about meeting her terrible end in his basement. Alas, those two bozos wanted to play a little game of intimidation with him, to the point of considering him to be someone that could so easily be trifled with as to send a girl to him.

“She wouldn’t have to be here if it weren’t for your  _ goons _ wanting to get funny with me,” Alastor said pointedly without a hint of amusement in his smile. “You really ought to keep them in check. I don’t suppose insubordination should be an occurrence under your authority?” 

Lucifer knew the sort of trick Alastor was trying to pull in trying to get under his skin with that little remark, but he was right. The little misdemeanour from two of his best men was not something he was going to let it slide so easily.

“I’ll definitely have a word about this little act of mischief,” he answered with certainty. “With that; come along. And bring her too.”

That was a clear order delivered so casually without any context as to why. It bewildered Alastor, who stared in confusion as Lucifer made his way past him and back to the stairs. Nothing more was said, leaving the younger man in a roll of thoughts; wondering what was going on, where was he planning to take him to, why was he taking him there, and…

“How the Hell am I supposed to lug this thing around.”

Lucifer was already half-way up the stairs when he stopped to look over his shoulder at him with a frown, like he was some idiot that should already know what to do. 

“You don’t have to take all of her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the trouble continues!
> 
> The Big Apple's about to set things straight and not in a good way, and Alastor can only wonder what's in store for him. Vaggie does a little slip-up and the tables have turned in the little game of shooting fire through the lips as Charlie turns cold as ice, but it sure seems like something that was to be coming after all! Our beloved couple have parted and are each facing another trial in their paths, and we wonder how they'll come along with it this time? 
> 
> Officially 1 year of Smiling Man and the story continues with even more angst, tension and a whole load of a suspense! I just want to thank everyone who have been with me on this journey and are awaiting to see what's ahead, despite the busy-ness of my real-life schedule tampering with the usual updates. But here we are, and let us go forth to a whole new load of PAIN. 
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Buzz – Come to a person’s door  
> Gaspers – Cigarettes  
> Dapper – A flapper’s father  
> Bozo – Fool  
> Palooka – Stupid fellow  
> Knowing my onions – Be informed  
> Hood – Criminal  
> Bull – Prison guard  
> Lam – Run  
> Can – Prison  
> Bump-off – Murder  
> Rubes – Hooligans  
> Skirt – Prostitute  
> Goons – Henchmen


	56. Taking The Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Waking up was no longer as pleasurable as Angel remembered. In the short instance upon his first blink awake, in which he felt somewhat relatively alright, it was all gone too quickly. Probably because of a very unwelcomed heavy weight on top of him. 

“Fuckin’ Hell, you still here?” 

His immense irritation was clear through his groggy sleep-laden voice at the customer from last night who was still asleep instead of gone as he should have been. It slowly shifted to disgust to see him drooling onto the pillows right near his face, as if laying in a bed stained by their ‘juices’ wasn’t revolting enough. 

“Get the fuck outta here, sleaze.” Angel’s demand came with a rough shove of his leg to the unwanted bedmate. It was just enough to force half the bozo off the bed, waking him up all discombobulated and falling to the hard floor. 

“Fuckin’ whore,” came the muffled curse.

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me shit I don’t know, why doncha,” Angel snarked back in reply and turned over to lay down on his other side as the fella started to get up and pick up his clothes that were strewn all over the floor. “You’re lucky I’m letting you off easy, else I’ll be charging you double for not fucking off.”

He couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to any of the man’s grumbling, pretending to fall back asleep until he heard the door open and close roughly.

When the silence filled the room, his thoughts became louder.

The bed was not comfy - his back ached from the mattress that had become worn and lumpy from the extensiveness of rigorous use, he had a crick in his neck from the near-disintegrated pillow, and he was sure his skin might be breaking out into rashes from the dirty scratchy blanket covering him. And yet, he stayed there, not ready a typical day outside these walls.

A sense of emptiness was starting to set in, stemming from the loss for the comfort and security that he’s grown quite familiar with in the Happy Hotel. That feeling of waking up on a lovely comfy bed to a nice quietude and being able to stretch out his limbs, grabbing a couple more winks with no worries of having to go outside and wait around doing nothing until nightfall. Sure, he did miss the free food that he got too, but that sentiment was more in the sharing of that food with the friendly blonde who had been a godsend to him. 

His heart sank into the lumpy mattress when the thought of Charlie’s smile immediately shifted into the last image that he could recall - shoulders slumped and eyes in a sad gaze that could not be hidden by the half-hearted smile she forced upon herself. He wanted to admonish himself for going soft, but how could he have broken her heart like that after all the things she’s done for him.

Oh, right. Because of a certain little two-faced snake that was supposedly her best friend who prided herself in being the girl’s ‘keeper’. 

Mood already soured, it made Angel decide to stay in the dirty bed for a little while more, wishing to be able to linger longer in blissful ignorance to the bullshit that was his life right now. He could get in trouble, but he’ll give a damn about that later. He was sure that Valentino was probably attending to much more important business before he’d start giving a damn about where he was. 

* * *

God, both of them could really use a drink - or two, maybe three.

But it would be pointless. A drink was meant to relax oneself and they were, by no means, with the ability to be relaxed. A drink would be very much insufficient in relieving both Vox and Valentino’s edginess at being seated in knee-deep silence with their boss sitting in front of them with the most silently dangerous judgemental stare. 

And Alastor Carlon standing right behind him was definitely not making the situation any better.

And neither was the ominous burlap sack bag that he was cradling in his arms.

“Really wanna stay quiet, boys?”

The question sounded bored, just like Lucifer as he did nothing but bounce his leg while waiting for both of them to start speaking up. Not even a drink was served as a welcome for his unexpected visit. How rude. 

Being the host of this establishment, it was only right that Valentino spoke the first word. “I...” came a sputter, still reeling in from the shock of having the Big Apple walk into his office so casually to be able to form even simple sentences. 

Vox had to fill in for him, but even then his attempts were half-assed and weak. “Awfully sorry for dragging you all the way down to New Orleans,” he apologetically said.

Lucifer hummed. “Wasn’t particularly happy about being woken up so goddamn early.” 

He clearly wasn’t a morning person, even more so if he had to be disturbed the sun even peeked past the horizon. It was evident in the  _ ing-bing  _ he had thrown with unhesitatingly spewing curses over the wire in his crankiness. Vox probably had to endure a few minutes of being on the receiving end of Lucifer’s fiery tongue that was throwing very colourful threats aimed at his parents and his uncles and aunts and cousins before he was given even a little bit of quiet to be able to state the reason he was calling. 

“I suppose I do have to thank you for that, though,” he added on thoughtfully. “Lord knows what would have happened to my precious girl.”

To say that they were relieved that his daughter was still alive would be a huge understatement to Vox and Valentino, who would not openly admit that they had been worrying off their asses on what they were to do if something dire had happened when she ventured into the man’s house. But knowing that old Lu’s little girl was still alive, they couldn’t help but be secretly impressed that Alastor Carlon was still standing alive after  _ making whoopee  _ \- because really, why else would a dame go into a bozo’s house by herself in the dead of night - with the Big Apple’s little girl. That sly dog - man’s gotta have some balls of steel. 

However, the father of the said girl was clearly not as impressed, and neither was he looking to keep beating around the bush.

“Don’t think that’s enough to be letting you off the hook. So, what’s this bright idea about staking out Mr Carlon’s house?”

Vox and Valentino glanced at each other, silently waiting for each other to speak. To see them so jittery was a far cry from the demeanour of intimidating gusto that they had portrayed when Alastor last saw them. He was admittedly impressed that the Big Apple could do so little to intimidate even the most boisterous of men into feeble versions of themselves by his presence alone. But right now on a more serious note, he was a whole lot more intent on hearing what had been their motive to convince himself if it was worthy to ‘do them one better’ in return. 

“Nothing too hasty really,” came Valentino’s reluctant reply. 

Judging from the quirk of a sceptical brow, Lucifer was not convinced. 

“We got curious, you see,” Vox continued in his friend’s stead, his cool not hiding his lackadaisical justification. “We wanted to see for ourselves what Mr Carlon here’s all about. We weren’t gonna waylay him for no reason at all.”

To hear such bullshit being spewed really tempted Alastor to go up to the bastard and give him a good  _ kisser _ to his ugly mug, thinking all about his intimidation tactics and finding the ploy to play innocent to be nothing short of sickening. 

And such bullshit wasn’t fooling the Big Apple, though it was tickling a puckish tilt to his lips. 

“Oh, so you wanted to give him a lil’ once-over, huh?” Lucifer asked with a chuckle. “Well, if that’s what you wanted, you ought to be more mindful about sending your girls to do the dirty work for you.”

Something about that last part did not sit right with them, especially when Lucifer turned to look at Alastor with a mischievous grin.

“Mr Carlon, if you please.” 

How he could still maintain so much composure, Alastor himself did not know. But even when anxiety and vexation ran rampant in his veins, it never found its way to his facial muscles that remained a stoic and steady smile. Even when he was well-aware of all three men watching him carefully, unhearing of his hammering heart, his gait was nonchalant as he stepped forward to the coffee table between them. The atmosphere became heavy, as heavy as the two  _ brunos  _ stares to the dubious sack in his hands and the load inside that was already becoming so much of a burden for him to carry. 

Alastor’s smile tightened and the fingers grasping the cloth of that sack fidgeted slightly, but even then, did not delay the inevitable when he tipped the burlap over to throw out its contents - or content.

The unified yells of shock and terror broke the unquiet overtone upon the dropping of a decapitated head. 

“ **FUCK!** ”

In the grip of panic with a comical scramble of flapping limbs, Vox and Valentino both backed up further into their seats in shocked fright as Cherri’s lifeless eyes watched them with terror frozen in her dead pupils.

The sight made them absolutely sick to their stomach. Cherri’s eyes had gone dull and glassy and lost all of its lustre of life, her neck ended in torn and bloodied dangling flesh, her once-pale skin now a nauseating shade of yellow that was slowly turning blue from being drained of blood. If they tilted their heads just a little bit more, they would have been able to see the juncture of where the hyoid bone would have been connected to the larynx until both were severed from each other in a messy saw-job, but the bile that was building up in the back of their throats told them they wouldn’t have been able to handle such an image. 

Whilst both were recoiling in admixture of disgust and fright, the disembodied head did not dampen the jolly mood their boss was seemingly in when he suddenly burst into a loud and harsh cackle of laughter. With a slap to his knee in mirthfully enjoying the reaction, Lucifer was doubled over and clutching at his belly like wheezing so hard was hurting him so badly yet he did not stop. 

“Take a look at their faces!” he guffawed. “What a goddamn joke! Am I right, Carlon?!”

Their actions were quite amusing, enough to incite Alastor to want to break out into his own fit of laughter at such a screwy display of two supposed tough-as-nails gangsters going into a frightful tizzy over an unattached head. It should have been nice for him to feel such a way, one-upping them at their own game of intimidation in the one way both would have least anticipated.

However, as both Vox and Valentino took a gander at him now, Alastor realised that this particular situation was no laughing matter at all. Because in revealing the head that he had severed all by himself from the body of Valentino’s girl, with lifeless eyes still wide open as an unliving witness to this defining moment, he had irrevocably revealed himself to the truth of his capabilities and the sort of person he truly was. 

A true cold-blooded killer. 

How was he supposed to laugh at something like that?

And the matter was not being made any better due to the fact that he had been outed to two of the least trustworthy men that he had come to know in such a short amount of time. 

One who was now nothing but downright furious. 

“You fucking rat!” Valentino spat, his shock having flared to become seething fury. “That was my fucking property!” 

The thunderous pimp was already off his seat and skirting around the coffee table in a beeline towards Alastor, ready to give a good  _ pasting  _ for the stunt he had just pulled. Already feeling the tension and hearing the intensity of his tone, Alastor was caught in that one moment between stand-off and fighting, that familiar fight-or-flight response kicking in and telling him to have a go if he had no other choice.

Alas, it was the length of a cane held out that suddenly stopped Valentino in his tracks. Only then did Lucifer cease his laughter, letting out a few more fading chuckles with a hand up in a silent order for Valentino to stop before he thought to act on impulse. 

“I’d say you got what you had coming, Val,” he said easily. “But aren’t you glad that it’s rather hers than your head on that table right now?”

Glad? Sure, Valentino, and even Vox, was glad. But that didn’t help them get over the absolute shock that this was what had happened to one of his  _ skirts _ , and all at the hands of a seemingly cocky yet docile radio host. 

And that was what unnerved them, because to know now what his capabilities were and to be in complete bewilderment of the extent of it, they understood that this man was definitely far more dangerous than he would have let them presume behind that eccentric smile of his.

“So, you’re just like us, then?” Vox asked him with his eyes never leaving the head on the table. He was as level-headed as he could get himself to be at the moment, still feeling all  _ balled up  _ but just about starting to get his head around what the hell was happening. 

Lucifer tutted before Alastor could reply, offering to answer in his stead. 

“No, no. Mr Carlon isn’t involved in our line of ‘business’. Just an honest radio host by profession. But this,” the Big Apple gestured with a wave of his hand to the head, “is more of a ‘hobby’, per se. Something he does in his spare time, and something I find quite particularly intriguing.”

‘Intriguing’? While they did not question their boss’ love for abnormality, what could be particularly ‘intriguing’ about treating a  _ rub-out  _ like some sort of hobby?

“Why him, then?” Vox questioned carefully. “Like you ain’t got enough  _ droppers  _ already.”

When Lucifer glanced at Alastor with a fondness akin to admiring a favourite pet, it made Alastor feel all the more vexed. The young man returned with a careful smile that was not made of flattery but of careful consideration. He still maintained his silence, which was even more unusual of the usually-chatty man. 

“He is quite… ‘unconventional’ in his modus operandi,” Lucifer explained thoughtfully. “I’ve never seen anything quite like him, to be so meticulous as to rake up his numbers while still remaining completely untraceable in less than a decade.“

It was like he was marvelling an interesting specimen instead of commending the man’s merits, so such an appraisal was not taken too well by Alastor. This only served to irk him further but still he said nothing in protest and remained silent. He could not find it in him to argue or make a snarky remark, finding himself to be much more cautious in such unknown territories. 

It was in the peculiarity of his silence that clicked something in Valentino, narrowing his eyes at Alastor in suspicious regard. 

“Then all those missing people… That was all you?”

His silence brought more than a ring of truth than a verbal confession would have. 

“Well,  _ tell it to Sweeney _ ,” each of Vox’s words articulated in measured scrutiny, “So this whole time, we’ve been rubbing elbows with a  _ hatchetman _ .”

And it was then that Lucifer suddenly decided to be somewhat of his saving grace. When he got up from the chair, he immediately became the most imposing figure in the room, bringing the two men back to the senses of harsh reality with just a wicked smile alone, leaving Alastor enough room to breathe and keep his cool under so much interrogative pressure. 

“Now, now, boys. Mr Carlon isn’t here to be answering any questions, so I think to leave him alone and don’t  _ put the screws on _ him. We’re here for both of you to  _ take the fall _ , _ savvy _ ?”

Any gusto that had arisen in the past while quickly faded when the time for due punishment had arrived. Valentino and Vox glanced at each other tensely but both knew that there was no wheedling out of this one.

Standing as a silent witness, Alastor watched as both Vox and Valentino got off the couch and came to kneel at an empty space on the floor. Lucifer circled them slowly like a vulture anticipating a prey to fall before it feasted. He was doing nothing but studying them, but that in itself brought the sensation of dread to coat the air.

He must have not blinked, or else he would have missed how swift the cane in his hands was swung up to give two quick but hard blows to the back of their heads. The thwack of wood hitting skull was a painful sound, with the thumping of two bodies immediately falling to the floor. Lucifer was fast as he was brutal, easily having two able-bodied men knocked out at his feet with just a single hit to each. 

It made Alastor go all antsy, wondering if it would be his head next to the take a hit.

“You’ve already got your fill, so you’re off the hook,” Lucifer assured nonchalantly as he eyed the two bodies at his feet. “I’m nothing if not fair. Besides, I’d say I’m takin’ it easy on all you  _ palookas _ .”

That was ‘takin’ it easy’? Such a hit, and to the head at that, should have been enough to kill them! And he wondered if that was the case, but then came the pained moans and groans came muffled as the two men struggled to recover and lift themselves up. Valentino put a hand to the back of his head and winced immediately, but there was no blood on his palm. So the  _ dry-gulches  _ hadn’t been enough to break skin or bone, probably just a nasty goose egg left in its wake. That’s sure to give a bad headache for a little while, splitting enough to make them flinch at any loud sound. But that was of no concern to the Big Apple, who gave no damns about giving a good reprimanding in that strident voice of his. 

“Now listen up, boys! Because I don’t see why the fuck am I repeatin’ this to you when it should’ve already been drilled inside your miserable  _ conks _ . I don’t really give any particular shit about what you idiots do in your spare time, so long as it doesn’t waste my fuckin’ time. You’re lucky I’m takin’ it easy this time, so you  _ wise heads _ better think fuckin’ twice before you wanna play a little  _ grift  _ out of your asses.”

The  _ earful  _ was a far more comical sight than what Alastor would have anticipated - like some disciplinarian commending a couple of schoolboys for breaking a rule. A notion that Lucifer played the role quite well in his cheeriness. 

“A good ol’ knock to the head should be enough to get it back to your senses,” Lucifer said with a twirl of his cane as he stepped over them. “I’d be damned if you two  _ booboises  _ think to ever go behind my word again!”

Coming back to Alastor’s side, Lucifer straightened his jacket where it had scrunched up during the swing of his cane while watching Vox and Valentino struggling to get up. They only barely managed to turn themselves onto their backs and it was such a less-than-stellar idea when the back of their heads touched the hard floor. That made Lucifer chuckle, which Alastor could again not share in the amusement. 

Lucifer turned his attention to the head that was still on the table. “Now get rid of that thing, will you? It’s a real eyesore to the feng shui here.”

Valentino’s eyes shifted to the ghastly sight of Cherri’s head on the table, and he shivered under her dead stare. This wouldn’t be his first time having to do a hiding job, but the fact that this was one of his girls with a lack of body still unsettled him so. 

“Wha-What about-”

“Mr Carlon’s been so kind as to settle the rest of her on his own, so you two should at least handle the head,” Lucifer informed with a tilt of his head back to Alastor. “It’s only fair if, in return, I trust that both you  _ dingbats _ would be kind enough to keep his ‘skills’ a secret, yes?” 

One couldn’t be working under the Big Apple without being instilled with the importance of secrecy - a value that the  _ honcho  _ emphasised on grounds of severe consequences if it was not upheld. So Alastor was definitely given the special treatment to not be in with the gaggle but still be liable to such a privilege. Thus, he knew what they were probably thinking; why was it that their boss was so keen on helping him? Him, who had clearly fucked his daughter and shouldn’t even be taking a single breath after being found out, and who’s just been outed of being the sole responsible entity behind New Orleans’ strings of terror?

Well, whatever questions they may have, Lucifer was in no particular mood to answer any in favour of bringing up a much more important topic. 

“And I don’t think I need to make it any more clearer that my daughter is strictly off-limits, do you understand?”

He did not say anything more, no follow-up explanation of the detriments that would befall upon them should they try. Why should he, when they should already know damn well that just the thought of hurting any of his beloveds would guarantee a fate far more painful and gruesome than death from his own hands? Lucifer Magne demanded submission on this particular proviso with no holds barred, and with the amount of trouble that both were in, they were willing to give it dutifully.

“Now, unless there’s something else that I should know and give another kisser to the head or two, I see that my business here is done.”

The rest of them could not have been any more eager to finally have this over. 

“O-Of course…” Valentino muttered.

“All good here, boss…” 

But Vox’s words may not hold true with the way his eyes were fixed firmly on Alastor in a hellish glare that was bubbling with indignation. Such a glare that exhibited a dire intention of promising horrid beyond comprehension if only an opportunity would present itself. 

How… endearing.

Having been safe all the way thus far, a little mischief could probably come into play here. Alastor’s face remained impassive but he tilted back a bit until his nose was slightly higher in the air so that he was literally looking down on Vox. That did the trick on working his last nerve, if the tightening of his hands into fists was anything to go by. 

Alas, a throwdown will not happen now - and he hoped that it won’t anytime soon. 

For now, Alastor can only be secretly relieved that finally it was time to go. Lucifer’s smile slowly returned to him then, and he was surprisingly polite enough to give a nod to both of them in his bid farewell before turning with a dramatic flair of his white coat to head out the door, with Alastor compliantly following right behind with a drop of the burlap sack to the floor and without another look to the two  _ brunos _ whose gazes he could feel boring into his back. 

With the clicking of the door closed behind them, both men exhaled a breath - Alastor of controlled relief, Lucifer of a heavy sigh of annoyance. 

“Now that we’ve got that settled, I could  _ dip the bill _ a bit. What’s say you, Carlon?”

Alastor hadn’t realised that he'd never spoken a single word inside that room until now, suddenly aware of how dry his throat was to just barely enough to murmur, “I ought to think that my business here is done.”

“Mmm, not quite so,” Lucifer hummed as he walked ahead down the hallway. “Don’t mind me, but I only feel it right that we should have a little talk, man-to-man, concerning you getting all  _ goofy  _ with my daughter.”

Whatever tension that had washed away when he left the room hit him hard all over again. 

So much for being relieved.

“Come now. A suitor should know that a chat with his intended’s father is a given, right?” Lucifer remarked casually. 

At this point, another minute spent with the Big Apple was like treading on very thin ice that had the cracks spreading rapidly with every cautionary step he took, and Alastor was trapped right in the middle of it. He felt stuck, unsure of taking a step out of hesitation of not knowing if he could take one more step safely or if he was going to fall into dark cold waters.

“You gonna get me all  _ primed  _ before you  _ take me for a ride _ ?”

Alastor’s suspicion was understandable, because things wouldn’t be so simple and straight-forward if the father of the said ‘intended’ was a ruthless mobster who clearly doesn’t think twice about  _ getting sore  _ with anyone who just so little as ticks him off. 

The grin Lucifer gave did not help with the apprehension. “Carlon, you sure do crack me up being all collywobbles like that! If I wanted to get rid of you, I would have finished the job with just this old cane back at your place!”

There was a flaw in his point - Alastor was sure that he could chill him off at any instant, no need for particular regard to justifying the perfect moment to strike. However, if he was really going to  _ bump him off _ , then why was he only delaying his chances? Thus far, he had been somewhat docile - if those little acts of the cane could be considered ‘docile’ for a gangster boss. 

Then again, as much as he had been the one to push him into a corner in his bid to out him to the two, Lucifer had watched his back in that little situation back in the room. Could be at a price, for sure, but still appreciated nonetheless. It felt like an added security that just smoothed that experience a little bit for him. It was a  _ hinky _ notion, but one that could warrant just a little more of the younger man’s respect nonetheless. 

Ah, well. If Alastor really was going to die at Lucifer’s hands, then he supposed he might as well have a drink before he goes. Besides, he could really use one from all the ‘excitement’ that’s occurred in the past couple of hours.

“My treat,” Lucifer assured as both started down the stairs at a matching pace, with both of them missing only by mere seconds for Angel to suddenly appear just where they had been. 

The shower had been as unrelaxing as his extra lie-in on the bed, and that was probably because he had to get all dressed up in last night’s clothes. It hadn’t occurred to him until after his washing that he was left with no new  _ rags  _ on him since most of them were back at the Happy Hotel with the rest of his belongings. He wasn’t too particularly fond of the thought of having to go back to the joint at the thought of seeing the two girls there, but he’d be damned if he had to go around in a smelly shirt for the whole day. 

First thing’s first, he had to let Val know that he was going to pop out for a bit. Angel knew very well that he was still on pretty thin ice for disappearing without a word for the past few days so it was best to keep his ass clear.

The hallway leading to Valentino’s office was foreboding as always, even without the usual  _ gooses _ standing guard at the menacing door. If anything, it just made the walk a lot eerier, and Angel felt ridiculous. Why was he being tizzy about something as simple as telling his boss that he’ll be out? It’s not as if he hadn’t done it before. Perhaps he’s been away from  _ La Maison de Val _ for too long perhaps. The comfort of the Happy Hotel had seeped into his bones too much that he seemed to be out-of-place in the constant tense air that hung around this joint. 

Well, tense or not, nothing’s gonna happen if he kept staring at the door. With just one quick deep breath to calm the unnecessary racing of his heart, Angel bravely lifted a hand to give a few sharp knocks. “Hey, Val?” he called out, his voice loud though just a little shaky. 

There was a bit of a muffle on the other side, and Angel knocked again until it finally brought an answer.

“Fuck off,” came a reply on the other side, “I’m a little busy.”

Valentino sounded like he was in a bad mood. Just another one of those days, Angel guessed. But he would have brushed it off as just another of Valentino’s bitchy-moods if it weren’t for the fact that he immediately noticed that there was something about the pimp’s tone that did not sound right. 

His words were pissy, but the way he said it was not. If anything, it sounded like he was in pain. 

If that were the case, then that would be a first. But as much as he was curious, Angel wasn’t so inclined to just walk into the room to find out. He took a quick look around the hallway, wondering if there would be anyone of importance to worry about anywhere nearby. When he determined that it was simply just the other workers going about their business around, it was with a very handled care that Angel pressed the side of his head up against the door, his ear right on the wood to get a good listen in to the conversation happening in the room. 

“Fuckin’ hate that guy.”

That did not sound like Valentino, but he sounded just as pained. A bit of moaning and groaning here and there with what could be heavy feet on the carpeted floor, and then the second voice barked, “Piece of shit be suckin’ up to the boss’ ass.”

And that’s when Valentino spoke. “Shut the fuck up with the whinin’, alright? My head feels like it’s gonna break. Jesus Christ.”

There was a bit of movement that Angel could not discern. For a moment, it continued to be quiet except for muted footsteps. 

“What’re we supposed to do with this?”

An irate groan. “Jesus, don’t remind me. She’s giving me the creeps with her eyes like that. It’s like she’s looking right at me even when she ain’t.”

There was somebody else in the room? Strange. From what Angel could make out, there seemed to only be two moving bodies inside - Valentino and who he had already suspected to be the friend from last night. There was nothing else that could discern the presence of the third.

What became more curious was the commentary that followed. 

“Close those damn eyes, will ya?”

“Why the fuck me?” came Valentino’s appalled reply. “You’re closer to it!”

“Because it’s yours, dumbass!” was the angered reply. “You wanted her back, and now we’ve got  _ behind the eight ball _ . It’s a damn good thing that he didn’t crack our heads open. Now how the fuck am I lay my head nicely on a pillow?”

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t you be lookin’ for  _ beef  _ with me. It was your bright idea in the first place. For fuck’s sake.”

A bit more grumbling here and there before the room fell silent, and the only thing that Angel could hear was the rushing of his blood in his ears. 

He still couldn’t figure out much of what might have gone down, though there was that conversation about something creeping them out with eyes that stuck out to him like a sore thumb. Whatever it was that had happened inside that room, it sounded way too  _ hinky  _ and way too serious, and was definitely something that Angel was not willing to get involved in. He’s had enough bullshit to deal with as of late and he wasn’t up for another load of it, only eager to get as far away from the door as possible and pretend that he hadn’t heard anything.

But then...

“God damn it, what a fuckin’ waste. Cherri was one of my best girls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First thing's first - Happy New Year, my lovely darlings! Hope these past few days of 2021 have been treating you well and good! As much as we still have a lot to go to shake off the bullshit of 2020, let's give it a shot to get this year going good!
> 
> Vox and Valentino get their dues, but all at the expense of Alastor being revealed in his doings. Lucifer certainly looks like he's still not ready to let Alastor go anytime soon without a little extra added earful, and hoo boy, is our boy going to need a little more than one drink! Unfortunately, Vox and Valentino aren't the only ones to be aware of a little truth, their little slip-up warranting a definite worry for our dear Angel...
> 
> Another year with more Smiling Man to come! We've got this fanfic running for a bout a year now, and it's definitely fuelled by love (a bit of sadistic tendencies towards our dear leading man!) And speaking of sadistic tendencies fuelled by love, I am loving the beautiful artwork of little Alastor's backstory done by our darling Covil (@Covil_B), and not forgetting the absolutely gorgeous portrait of our dearest man and lady by the lovely Ash (@abgdraws)! To see that in imagery is nothing short of fantastic!
> 
> Lots of shit coming together, so what do you think is up next. One thing's for sure, Alastor's gonna get some screws tightened for the time being!
> 
> 1920s slang: 
> 
> Ing-bing - Tantrum  
> Making whoopee - Having sex  
> Kisser - Punch  
> Brunos - Gangsters  
> Pasting - Punch  
> Skirts - Prostitutes  
> Balled-up - Confused  
> Rub-out - Kill  
> Droppers - Hired killers  
> "Tell It To Sweeney" - An expression of disbelief  
> Hatchetman - Murderer  
> Put the screws on - Interrogate  
> Take the fall - Take punishment for  
> Savvy - Understand  
> Palookas - Stupid men  
> Dry-gulches - Hits to the back of the head  
> Conks - Heads  
> Wise heads - Smart people  
> Grift - Confidence game  
> Earful - Reprimanding  
> Booboises - Knuckleheads  
> Dingbats - Idiots  
> Honcho - Boss  
> Dip the bill - Have a drink  
> Goofy - Infatuated  
> Primed - Drunk  
> Take for a ride - To drive off with someone in order to bump them off  
> Getting sore - Get mad  
> Hinky - Suspicious  
> Bump him off - Kill him  
> Rags - Clothes  
> Gooses - Bodyguards  
> Behind the eight ball - In a tight spot


	57. Beating The Gums

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

There had been an unsettling feel to the air when Rosie first woke up and she did not know why. Nothing was really out of the norm and nothing particularly unusual had occurred the night before. Yet, she couldn’t seem to shake it off no matter how hard she tried.

Niffty quietly walked up to the counter with a freshly-made cup of tea in hand, watching her guardian not focusing on a book that she was trying to read. “Maybe this will help to clear your head, Madam Rosie,” the girl offered the hot beverage to her. “Might just be something from breakfast not sitting right in your tummy to be giving you the _heebie-jeebies_.”

Rosie put away her book and returned a smile that was not whole-hearted. “Thank you, dear girl. But I’m pretty sure it isn’t anything from breakfast. No, no… There’s just something else.”

If the artefacts in her emporium could speak, she wondered what sort of wisdom they would tell her in advice on how to make this discomfort go away. But her distraction definitely did when the bell above the door suddenly rang. 

The knick-knacks all around probably did not have the right type of unspoken advice for what was to quickly come. 

“Well, hello, ladies!”

Where the Big Apple stood at the door, all smiley and imposing in head-to-toe white, his sudden presence brought a definite silence between the two ladies. Even Niffty, a chatterbox by nature, had been struck dumb in fear. So effortlessly had the calm that had been sitting nicely in the air just a few seconds ago turn into a thick blanket of anxiety that was suffocating in the musty air of the store, as if such dreadful energy exuded right from the dangerous man in white. 

And then they saw Alastor by his side. 

“Much apologies for dropping in so suddenly but Mr Carlon and I fancy a little discussion over some _juice_ ,” he informed the proprietress as he gestured to his companion. “While I understand that your establishment is meant to be incognito at the moment, I’ll pay handsomely for privacy. That’s all we ask.”

Even when she could feel her impassivity starting to break, Rosie still managed to carefully put the teacup back onto the saucer without tearing her eyes away from Alastor. It wasn’t so much about the money that prompted her, but more on the obligation that she had to the man that she was indebted to. But that obligation that would have been unhesitating was thwarted by her concern for the young man.

The young man was smiling as he usually was, but Rosie and Niffty have known Alastor long enough to know that the tilt of his lips was fake. His glim was tired and overwrought, and he was much too quiet for their liking. Something clearly went down beforehand to have him in such a reserved state, but what did this ruthless gangster have on him to make this normally eccentric young fellow so timid and abject, to the point that his usual snark was replaced with a silent look asking for compliance? 

“Would that be alright with you, ma’am?”

Could she really find out now though, with how the Big Apple’s chilling smile coerced her to chop-chop and make haste with his request?

“Niffty, dear… Keep a look-out…”

The tiny redhead was just as apprehensive as she was as she skittishly walked past the two men to the door, keeping her head down to ignore both their strange gazes and even stranger smiles. She quickly took a cautious look out the clear door panes to ensure that there was nobody within sight that could probably be looking in, but that feeling of having to do it in broad daylight made her feel a little jumpier. When she was sure that there was no risk, she threw a nod over her shoulder to signal that the coast was clear. 

Rosie hurried to the particular bookshelf where with quick and deft hands she unlatched it from the wall and opened up just enough of a space for Lucifer and Alastor to quickly slip through, closing it just as quickly when they were in. 

Suddenly, Rosie was breathless like the whole action took away her energy. The floor felt unsteady under her feet, but that’s probably because her head was starting to spin as her gut felt a lot more sicker. The unsettling feeling that’s been haunting her since morning now made much more dreaded sense. 

“Close the shop and cover the door, Niffty. Get Husker downstairs.” 

Behind the bookshelf, the two men were languidly making their way down to the underground establishment. The speakeasy that Alastor had always known to be filled with hundreds of conversations in loud voices that competed with the jazz that would dominate the atmosphere was in absentia, just an overdone event hall that was asleep in its secrecy as it waited in silence for its patrons of the night to bring it to life. Being here now at this time of day felt like he was entering some sacred place that was not meant to be disturbed, the secrets that its walls held ringing louder in the dead air. 

While he appreciated being in a familiar setting again, he was absolutely not pleased about the basis for the purpose of his visit here today.

“Of all the places you could have gone for…” Alastor muttered. 

“Want nothing but for you to be comfortable with me around,” Lucifer said, as if such a thing wasn’t already a difficult feat, “so I thought coming to your usual spot would do some good to ease a little of the _heebie-jeebies_.”

The nicety could not fool him. Seeing the muted terror on Rosie and Niffty did not ease him, adding to the trepidation he felt about Lucifer trying to make some sort of statement to be bringing him here so openly for his acquaintances to see. He already had the feeling that there was going to be another bout of interrogation by them once the Big Apple’s done with whatever business he wants to have with him here, but he’ll think about it when it happens. 

A loud noise came from the way they had come in, and it was an almost comical sight to see Husk nearly tripping over himself on his way down the stairs. He found himself still just as his and Alastor’s gaze met, the tired eyes of the bartender holding the question of _What the Hell is going on?!_

“Ah, you must be the bartender,” Lucifer greeted with his ever-present grin. “Was wondering where exactly we might get some service around here.”

It had been a tizzy when Husk was suddenly shaken awake from his little cat-nap by Niffty, who was talking so fast that he was barely able to catch ‘Big Apple’ and ‘Mister Al’ in that flurry of words. He swore he had never woken up so fast in his entire life that he was able to get over a hangover without his usual _hair of the dog_ first thing, though right now, he really wished he had when a glance to the bar brought the realisation that he was needed despite not exactly wanting to be there. 

The Big Apple continued to look expectantly at the bar, and it was like he was using his hellish stare to telepathically control Husk into moving towards his usual work station. He and Alastor kept eye-contact at a minimum as Lucifer sat comfortably on one of the bar-stools and gestured for Alastor to be seated beside him - unbeknownst to him, the seat he was offering was his usual spot. The young man got on with an easy familiarity, though not so familiar now with the presence beside him. 

“What’s your poison, Carlon?”

With the severity of the situation, Alastor was almost tempted to choose a much stronger _jag juice_ to soothe the rampant unseen jitters. But recalling nothing of the night bender and the nauseating morning-after corollary of neat whiskey, he was obliged to choose his usual poison for stability.

“Gin-and-tonic.”

“Ah, a classic,” Lucifer remarked with an approving nod. “I’m more of a scotch person myself. I like something with much more of a kick. But I suppose I can take it easy right now. Don’t wanna get too _blotto_.”

Lucifer raised a finger to Husk. “Two G&Ts, my friend! On the rocks. And make’em with what you got on the top shelf.”

A bottle of Gilbey’s was procured, truly fancy stuff that not even Husk was allowed to drink on his nightly benders. Coupled with tonic water and a couple cubes of ice in matching tumblers, the sounds of drinks being prepared brought a little calm to Alastor at its familiarity. Yet, he was sharp enough to notice that Husker wasn’t going at the usual speed he always would on a regular night. There was careful preciseness in his movements as he took his time, prolonging the preparation 

Nevertheless, it was quite soothing to watch the whole process of the trusty bartender preparing the drinks in front of him. At least then, Alastor could be assured that there was no chance Lucifer could possibly tamper it into a _Mickey Finn_ ; probably a far-fetched outlandish thought, but one could never be too sure what to anticipate. 

Lucifer took the tumbler and raised it to face-level. “Cheers, my boy,” Their glasses clinked and the rim of the tumbler came to his lips, but a sip was not taken when he noticed Husk still lingering around behind the bar and watching them both intently. 

“That would be all, my good fellow. No need you standing there like some _Swift’s premium_.” 

Lucifer’s simple request was evident that he did not wish for them to be eavesdropped on, and like with Rosie and Niffty, Alastor only had to give a look to tell him to do as he was told since there was no way in Hell was it worth trying to take a chance with the Big Apple.

“Leave that bottle of gin here before you go,” Lucifer instructed. “We’ll be here for a little while.” 

The Gilbey’s was pulled out once more and placed on the countertop before Husk finally left the bar and away from the both of them, going back up the stairs where a wary Rosie and Niffty was carefully peering into through a crack of the secret door. 

Alone with Lucifer again, Alastor distracted himself with whatever little ministrations he could find sitting at that bar. The curve of the Gilbey’s, the condensation in his hands, the sharp taste of expensive gin on his tongue. Anything. Alas, all those minute distractions couldn’t do a number on his nerves. He was nervous, yes, but out of anticipation or fear? He didn’t know. What he did know was that the silence that was hanging between him and the Big Apple in that speakeasy was so deafening that it fed his anxieties. 

“You know, I hear gin’s real good at calming the nerves. You sure look like you could use a lot more of it.”

“Ever thought to ease up on the whole scaring jig you got on?” Alastor remarked dryly.

Lucifer chuckled. “Don’t think I’ll ever get over the look on your face when you opened the door. Gonna be a tickle to my funny bone for a bit now. Gotta say though; you sure do have balls, Carlon. Already knew since I first pulled that gun on your head.” 

The memory of that fateful night was not without a grimace even with the compliment. He wasn’t too comfortable with how chummy-like Lucifer was bringing it up, nor was he too keen on lingering what was not necessary at the moment. 

“So, about that talk.”

“Charlie’s taken quite the liking to you.” Lucifer’s answer was quick, like he had been waiting for him to speak. “I know I said before that I wasn’t the sort of dapper to meddle with his daughter’s love life, but I’m a bit inclined to have to put a bit of my two cents in when it concerns you.”

“So what does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything, actually,” Lucifer answered. “You seem to forget that the whole point of me even sitting next to you is because I’m quite particularly intrigued with your ‘skills’. I find them quite a talent that I could use under my 'employment'."

“... And?”

“And, of course, considering that my own daughter’s become your _choice bit of calico_ , I thought we could come to a sort of deal.”

There was something triggering about the thought of deals as of late, but none more so than this. This time, though, it wasn’t out of the trepidation to get caught up in something he didn’t want to be involved in, but more on the stakes that were being put to play here. 

“Charlie's life must mean so little to you. ”

Glass hit the countertop like it should break into pieces but didn’t. The sound echoed throughout the empty hall enough to become a gentle far-off noise to the three discretely intruding from the top of the stairs. The indifference evaporated from Lucifer’s eyes, turning hard and cold as steel in his displeased grimace. His accommodating demeanour was gone faster than the ice in his tumbler could clink and rise to the surface upon impact with the table. An invisible line of his boundaries had clearly been crossed, offending him in his sensibilities. 

“You think too little of me, it seems. I value Charlotte’s life as much as I value my beloved Lilith’s, and both of them easily come above my own. You don’t know what sort of Hell I would rain down upon this wretched Earth if **anything** happened to them at all.”

There was something in the ferocity of such a declaration that stunned Alastor momentarily. 

He wondered, was _this_ what a family man’s love was supposed to sound like? To be like? Charlie was so devastated with how disapproving her father was of her, he recalled. But, Lucifer Magne seemed so affectionate towards his wife and daughter during that fated birthday party. Could a man really be both? If Lucifer truly was a selfless husband and father who would put the wellbeing of his wife and child above his own, then good for him, and on Mrs Magne and Charlie, too. 

Alastor wasn’t jealous, no, rather glad both women were spared the sort of thing he remembered from his own youth. It was all just so curious to him. Nostalgic. How could it have been, if...?

But there were no “if”s. And so, there was no use pondering upon them.

“So, not a pawn. An incentive, then?”

“ _Now you're on the trolley_ ,” Lucifer replied, “If you are wondering why I’m letting you live this long when I could have easily _kicked you off_ and leave you lying in a pool of your own blood in that boring foyer of yours, you probably should wonder first why you’re still leaving my daughter alive.”

There was a challenging lilt to that notion. “What makes you think I won’t do it?” Alastor questioned defiantly.

“Oh, I know you would do it. That’s partially why I’m still contemplating to kill you right here and now before you could even try at it again,” Lucifer unhesitatingly stated. “But I also know that won’t happen.”

“And why’s that?”

Lucifer took a sip and rolled his tongue around for a little bit, tasting the expensive gin in consideration with the words that were playing on his tongue. 

“You’re like an open book. I can see it. You don’t want to do it.”

A conversation in the rain echoed in Alastor’s thoughts and he was partially glad that Husk wasn’t here to hear all this, lest he would serve a very knowing face that would have pinched his nerves. And all because this time, even Alastor couldn’t ignore that there was the absence of denial at such a thought. How far had he come in such a short span of time to have the tables turned on what he had been hard-pressed on the seemingly preposterous concept? Husk would have surely enjoyed a good laugh at his expense if not for the fact he remained tensely waiting at the entrance, keeping sharp eyes anxiously on the scene that he could not hear. 

A finger nonchalantly running over the rim of his tumbler as he watched Alastor in his silence of deep contemplation, and Lucifer remarked with a drawl, “It must be torturing. I wonder how it must be to feel such a dangerously tantalising hunger.”

If his drink wasn’t already on the table, it would have surely slipped out of his hand and down to a definite crash. Alastor wouldn’t have had the chance to catch it with how he suddenly froze up. It felt like his blood was suddenly running cold like his drink, even when his heart was hammering so haphazardly. He could not think of a time where he had ever felt this unnerved before like how the Big Apple was giving him a hard look right in the eye that dared him to deny his statement. 

“Cannibal.”

One word said short and simple; a plain statement of what the Big Apple had already known. 

“Don’t look too surprised,” Lucifer chuckled with amusement. “One look at those dishes on your kitchen table and I sure as Hell knew that wasn’t regular breakfast meat when I saw that hooker’s legs.”

Alastor supposed he should feel even a tad nervous, and Hell, he sure was. At least, he thought he was. With so many things happening too fast for his comprehension, the lines were starting to blur and he wasn’t too sure if he could differentiate between pure nerves or rickety foolhardiness. Also, with how so far past the point of no return he’s gone on, was there really much of a use to still be keeping secrets from a man who seemed to be able to compel him to tell him things he wanted to know with just a single look? 

“You don’t seem too horrified.”

Lucifer chuffed with another sip of his drink. “Boy, I’ve been in this game even before you were seed in your daddy’s balls. You’d be surprised at all the fuckery I’ve come across.”

Alastor really wondered what sort of ‘fuckery’ had he witnessed in his life to consider cannibalism as mild by comparison. 

“There’s little that could shock me now, though it does make me curious how a bright young man like you found himself in such an ‘interesting’ foray.”

A simple question asked like the most basic of questions he would have asked during his radio interviews. Only this time, it felt like he was the interviewee, and the question turned out far more surprisingly sensitive than he would have presumed, sending him on a subconscious walk down my memory lane to reminiscences that have been rearing its ugly head a little too frequently for his liking. 

Father laying in a pool of his own blood with a grotesque hole in his throat. 

Cutting him up at his fleshiest parts and frying him up in a pan with nothing but butter and carrots.

Sinking his teeth into meat that had such an exotic flavour it made his tongue tingle. 

He did recall that there had never been an instance in which his conscience attempted to warn him of the absurdity of such an inhumane and heinous act of immorality to consume one’s own kin. On the contrary, his psyche had revelled in the hedonism of power and dominance that he had never thought he desired until that moment, made sweeter by his hunger telling him that it was the most delicious meal he’s ever had in his life, and he’d be damned if he could never taste such exquisite meats again. 

“The bastard whose seed I’m made of.”

“Wow. Patricide.” The remark came so casually like it had meant nothing but simple child’s play. 

“Amateuresque, I know,” Alastor chuckled mirthlessly. 

“Don’t be ashamed, Carlon,” Lucifer said thoughtfully. “You aren’t the only one who had daddy issues.”

The melancholy gave away an inkling of a past that too had long been forgotten up until this point, softly calling Lucifer away from the moment to go into deep thought as he took a subconscious walk down memory lane. It was a curious sight to behold, and Alastor doesn’t really think he’s ever seen the terrifying Big Apple looking so ‘soft’ until then. But it didn’t take long for the man to harden up once more, clearing his throat and sipping up his final drops of gin before refilling from the Gilbey’s sitting between their arms. Unwanted memories drowned in good liquor to be washed away from thought, yet he still did go on about it.

“Hated my life, chose my own. Like you chose yours. Some of us are just born with a bad streak in our bones, perhaps. Some of us, raised in circumstances that it manifests in us. You don’t gotta tell me what Daddy did to turn you into the _crackpot_ you are now, but whatever it is, it’s steeped too far in; the intent to do crimes, commit sins, live for atrocities.”

Another sip, and the conversation’s taken a more ‘advising’ sort of tone, though not necessarily in a good way. 

“Why we do it, though, is a whole other thing. Now, I’m doing it to keep food on the table and a roof over my family’s heads. You’re doing it for some screwy reason that’s somehow got you eyeing my daughter for your next meal and then you got all _goofy_ and can't find reason to do it. We both know that’s not going to end up good for both of us - even more you because I will ensure you’d be wishing God would even give you an inkling of mercy before I’m done with you. I don’t want to make things too complicated for you, though. If anything, I’d like to discuss some terms where we can both get what we want without any complications.”

A jive and a threat all in one, the grin on his face so chilling that Alastor swore he could feel a shiver run down his spine. 

Yet the coldness never touched him, barred by chagrin at the thought of Charlie’s life being held as a wager of sorts. It was quite surprising to feel such a sort of outrage, but it was not unjustified. How sickening must this man be to dare to use his own daughter as a tool in his little games? 

Then again, why was he being angry about it? As if he himself hadn’t tried to toy around with the same girl in question. Quite the hypocrite he was, truly. It made it almost feel like there wasn’t a right for him to get mad. Yet, he still did, and he tried to swallow down that anger with a quick swig of his cool drink, but the alcohol did little extinguish that little ball of fire, seemingly only inflaming it the more it sat in his stomach. 

Suddenly he could feel his impassivity - the coverture that had grown out of the convalescence of the traumatic torments of a foolish mother’s pathos – breaking faster than it’s ever had in these gruelling past few weeks. Once again, all because of the thought of Charlie and everything that came to be at stake. 

To go to her would break him, yet to stay away will only drive him further over the edge. Either way, there was no guarantee that Charlie would make it out alive so long as his own damning bloodlust continued to hinder. So he remained at the crossroads of two choices, unmoving out of fear of making one wrong move as his mind attempted to pull back his heart and keep it within the confines of his deranged psyche. 

But his heart had already strayed to where it should not and the thought of Charlie now swayed him in foreign ways, tempting him with the desire to rebel against his own principles just for another taste of that wicked poison called ‘love’.

Alastor could no longer abandon one now that both were important. The only option he had was to find a way for these two conflicting divisions to pull together to come to a compromise for himself.

Problem was, he really didn’t know how. 

Wordlessly, he grabbed the Gilbey’s by the bottle’s neck and helped himself to a considerable second serving. Lucifer did say this one was on him, so Alastor would damn well help himself to as much as he pleased. He took a good gulp of his refill, the intoxicating bite of neat gin burning down his gullet. 

“I’m not particularly in a mood for an epiphany of life-changing revelations at the moment,” Alastor muttered with new grit, “so let’s cut right to the chase. What’s the catch between me and Charlie?”

With his fill of liquid courage, there was no care of whether it’s really pure nerves or rickety foolhardiness. He just wanted this day to be done and over with, for this conversation to come to an end, all so that he can be by himself somewhere and just not have to listen to anything. 

Lucifer understood that now, and saw no more reason to dally. 

“It’s very simple really.”

Up above at the entrance, Rosie, Husk and Niffty continued to watch in silent nervosity.

* * *

Charlie wondered if everything had all been just a very bad dream, but seeing the sleeve of Alastor’s robe that had dampened from her tears told her otherwise.

She continued to stay in bed and did nothing but stare up at the ceiling like she was watching an imaginary picture show of the recollection of the chain of events that had occurred earlier on. Her heart heavied so much that it felt like she was sinking into her bed, and how she wished that it would just swallow her up so that she could disappear from the world and not have to figure out how she was ever going to rectify such a horrible situation.

Okay, maybe not to the point of such dramatics, but she really did wish she could disappear from this house right now. This house felt like a prison, wardened by a liar who she had thought was her trusty best friend. 

It never made Charlie feel good to be so vicious the way she had been, but was she really unreasonable in light of what Vaggie had done? 

Vaggie, who had always been by her side, who had always heard her out on her woes and held her when she cried, and who had fed her with encouragement each time doubt came flooding in. Who, apparently, was capable of such cruel things like kicking out a struggling individual from their sanctuary, or feign belief in a cause that was so very dear to the one person she claimed to always stand by? 

There was a small part of Charlie - the part that still longed to keep hold of the dear friendship that she had forged with the girl - that was not so ready to believe what had transpired. Vaggie had always been such a hot-headed individual who would spit things she did not mean like the Spanish curses that were always so readily on her tongue. So what could say that this was not the case?

Probably the look in her eyes when she made it so very obvious that she shouldn’t have said that.

Charlie had never felt so stupid in her life, but there still was that cynical wish for her to remain dumb to such deceit. How excruciating it was to realise Vaggie played the part of a yes-woman so well, making her believe she would walk with her through any storm, when in reality, most likely she was seen as a toddler who would have been useless on its own. Somehow, this was admittedly much more painful than any scorn she’s ever received in her life, for at least those came without a façade of fake belief. Even more heartbreaking than that first heartbreak experienced with Alastor, for at least he had still been upfront with her despite his qualms. 

And Charlie had no idea what to do, except to get up from bed, get dressed in simple home clothes and drape Alastor’s night robe with care on the back of her dressing chair. So lost in thoughts that weighed heavily on her mind until her stupor had been broken by the sound of a loud knock from the front door. 

She was in no particular mood for guests, but the persistent knocking kept bringing back the memories of that morning. Waiting a while longer and the knocking persisted, and so she forced herself to move out of her room and down the stairs. For a brief moment, she hoped that it was her lover knocking on the door, though she dreaded what news he might come bearing with his presence. Alas, when she opened the door without hesitation, she was immediately met with disappointment.

“I’ve brought lunch,” Lucifer announced as he held up a paper baggy in his hands that wafted a savoury aroma.

He let himself in without a word from her, and Charlie was too tired and simply stepped aside to close the door. She followed her father to the dining table, where he had taken off his hat and shed his fine white coat. He did not wait for any plates or cutleries before reaching into the paper bag, taking out a couple of po’boys that were still hot and fresh and filled to the brim with fixings of meat and seafood. 

“I didn’t forget one for Vaggie either. Call her down for a bite, will you?”

Hearing that name made her stomach queasy and almost on the brink of losing her appetite. “She’s taking a nap,” came the quick lie that covered her impartiality to have any contact with the girl. It was with relief that Lucifer did not question further and only handed a sandwich to his daughter, who took it with quiet thanks. 

They ate their food in silence, Lucifer in considerable bites and Charlie in small chews. The po’boy was delicious as all foods in New Orleans were and it was hearty enough to satiate the hunger that’s been gnawing at her belly for the past few hours. Lilith would be appalled that this sort of nosh was all they were having for lunch instead of a more balanced meal, but both father and daughter could appreciate this little simplicity of sandwiches in each other’s company. 

“New Orleans sure knows how to make a sandwich,” Lucifer remarked.

Charlie nodded. “You should try out jambalaya. Or gumbo.”

“Interesting names,” he said curiously. “I’ll bear in mind to sample them the next time I’m around here.”

But even with this civility, there was no denying that tension still hung in the atmosphere between them. 

“I know you want to ask me about that Carlon boy.”

“What did you do to him,” was the immediate answer. 

Charlie probably should have been more mindful with her words and tone, seeing how so _behind the eight ball_ she already was, but considering his lack of proper behaviour that morning, she saw no reason that the benefit of the doubt should not be extended to her. 

Lucifer paused to consider his daughter’s reaction, but sighed because he understood. “He’s fine,” he reassured stiffly. “Just had a little _barber_ with him but that’s all.”

That didn’t sound all too convincing since her father’s earlier reaction to the ordeal would really say otherwise. “I really hope you didn’t do anything much more drastic than that,” she warned.

“Why would you think I would, sweet apple?”

“Because you basically stormed into his house and was about ready to whack him with your cane,” she exclaimed indignantly. “Daddy, that was atrocious.”

Lucifer snorted at his daughter’s reprimanding. “Charlotte, you made a scene in front of the Von Eldriches and hightailed from the dinner table and out of Baton Rouge. And for me to make a call to the house and find out that you weren’t even home; what else was I supposed to think?”

The sincerity of her father’s concern was heartfelt, probably enough to soften her prickliness to his behaviour. But a strong case of doubt had been sitting in the pit of her stomach since the events of this morning so she could not find it readily easy to believe. She wondered if such a sentiment was simply for the fact that she - an unwed young woman - had stayed the night at a bachelor’s house would be cause for concern to dignity, as was always the issue she faced. 

“Just so you know, I don’t care what people think of me if they heard.”

Lucifer understood and shrugged. “I know you don’t, and neither does your mother and me,” he said nonchalantly. A cheeky grin and a waggle of brows commenced a little bout of mischief when he added, “We were young too, you know.”

Charlie groaned in a flush of embarrassment at the thought. “God, Daddy… Please don’t.”

“A little _barney-mugging_ probably was what you needed to get it out of your system.”

Definitely **not** the sort of conversation one would want to have with their father post-argument, the shame growing immense in her whingeing as Lucifer belted a genuine laugh at his daughter’s fluster. Nothing of this moment really helped to lighten the mood in her case, since Charlie was in no particular mood for jokes. 

“Whatever it is, your concerns were for nothing. Alastor wouldn’t think to do anything heinous to me.”

And just like that, the laughter stopped. There was but an unsure smile left, like that of a child who learned a secret they shouldn't have, and had to do everything in their power to protect it. However fatuous her father could be, it wasn't like him; he looked right at her, but she could not read him. What else was hidden from her sight, what did he know? Charlie bit her lip as a tiny needle stung her heart, seeing him look at her like such a thought was otherwise.

“I’ve let you go on your own for quite a while, Charlie. And as much as I dislike seeing your constant failures, I know you did right in still looking out for yourself and your best interests.” A hand was placed on her shoulder, the sort of gesture that came with a word of advice. “But you have a little too much faith in people, sweet apple, and that’s probably going to bite you when you would least expect it.”

Her father’s words would have been _hooey_ to her if it weren’t for the fact that it did really ring true, making her all the more aware of the lingering animosity that had not yet dissipated from her fight with Vaggie. It caused an immediate bitter streak, and it was with a grimace that she replied tightly, “I think I know that, Daddy.”

Lucifer had just taken another bite of his po'boy when he stopped mid-chew, glancing back at her in a strange manner. 

“Oh, do you now?” he asked quite curiously. 

Her father’s strange reaction was not noticed, too preoccupied with fidgeting her sandwich in her restless fingers. “Yes. I see that now,” Charlie agreed, “For now, I’m just giving you a heads-up that Vaggie probably should be dismissed from my services.”

Tension was heaved out with the words, but it left her feeling dourer than placated. It was all a butterfly effect now, leading from consequence to consequence, and Charlie was now resigned to the fact that she did not want to acknowledge yet knew that she must. Such a sad moment that had to play a pivotal point, for she knew would have expected the day she would have to say such words in such despondent circumstances.

Lucifer, on the other hand, looked somewhat relieved. 

“Oh. I thought that…” 

Lucifer swallowed his food and cleared his throat, clamping his lips in a flash of consideration when he decided to not say out what had popped up in thought. Charlie did not take notice of that little curious pause. 

“Well, never mind,” he backtracked. “I must say I didn’t anticipate that.”

And neither did Charlie, because there was nothing else more to say when it had already bit her when she had least expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words of advice from the Big Apple himself! Who knew an eccentric and slightly insane mob boss could be capable of dishing out a barber that could cause a few life crisis? XD But with stakes going high and important decisions needing to be made, how will the consequences of a moment's decisions affect our lovely distressed couple? :O
> 
> This chapter's a real thought-burner that's it's even had me questioning a few of my life's choices XD Though I have to hand it to Lucifer; the man sure has a way with words. Alastor's gonna have to watch out! I do have to say though, some stress-relievers were helpful in the process of this gruelling chapter, especially darling Freya's (@wifeofthesoules) gorgeous belated Christmas gift to me! Never enough Charlastor lovin' for this simp XD so thank you so very much, love!
> 
> If you think this has been cloyingly tense, think of it as somewhat of 'a calm before the storm', because Lord knows the next chapter's gonna take a sharp turn that would break a few hearts!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Heebie-jeebies - The jitters  
> Juice - Liquor  
> Hair of the dog - alcohol that is consumed to lessen the effects of a hangover  
> Jag juice - Hard liquor  
> Blotto - Drunk  
> Mickey Finn - a drink laced with a drug  
> Swift's premium - Wallfower  
> Choice bit of calico - Desired woman  
> "Now you're on the trolley!" - "Now you're getting it!"  
> Kicked you off - Kill you  
> Crackpot - Loon  
> Goofy - Be in love with  
> Behind the eight ball - In a tight spot  
> Barber - Conversations  
> Barney-mugging - Sex


	58. In Obscurity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

There had been an offer of a ride home, but home wasn’t where Alastor wanted to be alone with his thoughts right now. Lucifer had only given a mere shrug and a departing wave as he advised him to ‘give it a think’. Unfortunately, Alastor couldn’t give the conversation they just had much of a think when, as he had already expected, the trio that had been waiting atwitter descended upon him with the questions that tingled the tips of their tongues.

“Why was he with you?”

“Mister Al, what’s going on?!”

Even with all the questions thrown at him, Alastor stayed staring at the empty glass in hand that only now he realised he was still holding onto a little too tightly. But even when he slackened his grip, the tension did not leave him.

It was only Rosie who noticed. 

“You two, that’s enough,” the older woman chided as she cut in between the both of them. The whole thing was a headache for her, even gently massaging her finger into her temples did not do much as she tried to wrap her head around the situation. Speaking here in the speakeasy did not seem to be working for her, the tension that had arisen still lingering in its wake. “Let’s all go up for some tea. We could use a little bit of a soother.”

Even the mention of his most-disliked drink did not deter Alastor from following the lady’s instructions. He followed them all up to the overtly-lacy living area that he had woken up in just only yesterday morning. He took a seat on the couch and immediately relaxed; the first time he’s really done so this entire day. Rosie and Husk were polite enough to at least give him that moment of breathing space, keeping quiet with the thoughts that raced with so many questions of what had just gone on.

Tea was brought out and there was surprisingly a cup of coffee made especially for Alastor. “I remember you hated tea,” Nifty said. It was a sweet gesture that brought just the tiny bit of sincerity to his plastered smile and he took a sip as Husk grumbled beside him about the glass of plain water Rosie had forced him into having.

The coffee quenched him in a way that the Gilbey’s - it had been left to a little under half a bottle, so Husker could probably get a few sips of it later - did not. It also helped that the rest stayed politely quiet for him to enjoy the warm drink.

Still, even he knew such peace would not last long in these circumstances. 

“I hope you don’t mind us asking...” Rosie’s tone was gentle because she did not want to treat this as an interrogation. “What is going on, Alastor?”

From the way he was eyeing him, Alastor was pretty sure that Husk would be the one keener to find out what exactly was going on since he’s found out as much during that night walk. He could feel just the slight tinge of embarrassment as he answered, “Things are getting more out-of-hand than I could ever anticipate.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” Husk grumbled with a small sip of his water, trying not to wince in distaste. “So what _beef_ does the Big Apple have on you now?”

Suddenly the coffee did not seem so thirst-quenching anymore, leaving just a bitter aftertaste to the sudden parchedness of his throat that turned dry as a desert at the prospect of now having to face the truth. On the cup, his stiff fingers clutched. 

Why was it that such sensations seemed to be reigning over him with such ease as of late? How has the nonchalance that enabled him to maintain a level-headed facade now turned into such a draining task recently, giving much difficulty to even force the words out of his dry throat?

“There’s something that I haven’t truly been truthful about with all of you.”

Their gazes made him feel like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but still could not be compared to the mess that was in for him soon.

Was it really worth saying, though? A mess that, perhaps, he really should really keep to himself. This was his problem, and his alone. It would probably only do more harm than good to have them in the know, regardless of whether this was something he could truly handle.

Yet, the sort of relationship he had with them as peers and accomplices - and not to mention; being the only ones he would ever seriously and sincerely consider ‘friends’ - told him otherwise. They’ve covered for him many times despite his ‘quirks’ and he’s drunk the best booze he could get his hands on thanks to them. Basically, they all _drank out of the same bottle_. Was that not enough reason for him to divulge his trust to those who clearly deserved it the most? 

Alastor looked to Husk, who waited intently for him to continue. Husk, as a gambler, should understand the need to play the cards close to one’s chest, right? Constantly drawing blanks was like a shoo-in for a good clean out; indeed, it was only reasonable Alastor would want to keep them up his sleeves in case consequences called to take chances to hope for a trump card.

But to keep them as his cards, it was only logical that they can make head-or-tail somewhat of what exactly been plaguing him for so long, and there was absolutely no other choice except to take a deep breath and say. 

“Charlie Magne… She’s his daughter.”

Then came the dramatic pause after a significant reveal. The moment of silence to allow such to properly set into thought for them to comprehend, to find the perfect words to properly use to react to such shocking news...

“You’re **_fucking_ ** the Big Apple’s _daughter_?!”

Shocking, indeed. 

“Husker! Language!” Rosie exclaimed indignantly. But as crude as his crassness was, it was undoubtedly nothing but the truth. 

“Yes,” Alastor admitted with a sigh. “Yes, I am.”

What Husk wouldn’t do to give the man a good _sock_ to the _button_ and an iron grip around his throat right now when it seemed more tempting than it's ever been. However, he doubted that even a _sockdollager_ could get the man back to his senses and _crab_ what exactly was wrong. 

“You do know just how **fucked** you are right.”

He could have not said it any better, really. Vulgarity aside, such an exclamation truly was effective in bringing down the weight of such an unfortunate situation. Bringing the fear that had Niffty, who was wringing her hands so much she could have chaffed them, choke out worry through a lump in her throat. 

“Mister Al, is he… Is he going to kill you?..”

The question that definitely stressed them the most, yet ironically, it was the one Alastor could answer with the most confidence. 

“On the contrary, he’s actually quite open with the idea of letting me be with her.”

Eyes widening in unison showed their surprise. “Oh?” Rosie quipped inquisitively. “That’s… completely unexpected.”

“Not as much as it’s suspicious,” Husk added on knowingly. He’s already placed his water down at this point, having further lost his appetite for such a tasteless drink. “At what cost?”

Alastor could easily remember the way Lucifer’s grin had turned smug when his intention was laid bare, mocking him right in his face as he enjoyed what little bit of torment he managed to inflict on him with such an upsetting offer. 

“My services in exchange for her hand.”

For a moment, they thought he was simply pulling their leg. Alas, there was nothing about that smile that showed it as a farce. 

“He’s just straight up offering up his own daughter to you for _marriage_?” Husk muttered incredulously “Is that what I’m hearing right?”

Alastor wouldn’t really think of it as going as far to the point of marriage - such a thought was not quite comprehensible to him and he definitely didn’t dare to wonder to such an extent. 

But he could understand why it was so very _hinky_. There was not a smidgen of hesitation when Lucifer told him that. It was like he was making an offer he can’t refuse, like he was so sure he was playing his cards right despite knowing that it would potentially put the life of his only sweet child at risk. Just how much was he betting on the fact that Alastor was in love with Charlie so much that he would change his mind completely on his initial intentions to count her into his body count?

“What is this guy thinking?” Husk grumbled on. “He’s giving up his daughter to you, and you want to murder her more than anything else.”

Well, perhaps the bet really could be in Lucifer Magne’s favour, a possibility that Alastor reluctantly acknowledged with such an answer.

“I…I don’t really know about that anymore, honestly.”

The moment that they realised that there was no misinterpretation to his words, Husk and Niffty was stunned. Sure, they had already suspected as much. But to hear it actually being said from his own mouth definitely was like he was speaking a language they couldn’t understand. Like they were witnessing the impossible just happen; this man, who always seemed to have a plan no matter how stupid or how outlandish it may be, actually giving in to what he had been denying for so long? Such a moment that was as rare as hen’s teeth, breaking the smiling facade that he was always known to finally reveal a man so lost and confused. 

And seeing that side of the man somehow made things feel a lot worse than ever before. 

It made Rosie want to discern a little more. 

“Can both of you leave us for a moment? I’d like to speak to Alastor in private.”

All three of them looked to Rosie, who was by far the calmest in the room with the way she was still sipping her tea thoughtfully like the brown leaf juice was helping to keep her composure in check. Husk and Niffty then exchanged a look between themselves before glancing over to Alastor. He was sure that there were more questions for him that they would wish him to answer. 

“Please, both of you.”

Rosie’s stern glance was firm in her instructions and both of them left without argument. They left Alastor on his own like some patient whose therapist was watching with such empathetic eyes. 

“Alastor, I’ve known you for so long.”

“About a few years or so.”

“Long enough to know that you are a very stubborn boy. The sort who never gave twice thought about what he wants to do. Even if it means killing people for fun. So to see you being confused… It really is quite worrisome.”

Ah, sweet Rosie. Always acting the part of the big sister. 

“I understand your concerns, Rosie. It would be a lie if I said I wasn’t worried myself.”

Good to know that he’s at least acknowledged such, giving no qualms for Rosie to directly ask, “So what is it about this girl, Alastor?”

He gave the same answer he gave a moment ago. “I don’t know.”

“Hmm… As much as I know you’re stubborn, I also know you aren’t dumb.”

“This time I’ll have to admit I am. Even I’m clueless. There’s just something about her.”

Rosie was understandably unconvinced. “That sounds very cliche.”

“Oh, yes!” Alastor snorted, his tone suddenly having a bit of a nasty bite. “Sounds like a load of horseshit, right? So just how the Hell can I get you to understand when I damn well don’t too?”

Rosie pursed her lips at such an instance of impudence but she brushed it off as simply stress. Alastor did realise his mistake but opted to take another sip of his coffee instead of apologising. With how tetchy he was, she recognised the need to tread very carefully and not to put her two cents in yet without getting a clearer idea of the situation. 

"Perhaps, if you don't mind, you should start from the beginning?" she suggested. 

It only occurred to him then that Rosie out of the three of them was the one still mostly kept in the dark to the dilemma that he had been facing. It was an ordeal but still, Alastor recounted just about everything that he had told Husk thus far; of Charlie and how she had captured him so easily, from the first moment she gave that damning smile, to how she nursed him without hesitation, to how the song she had sung at the proprietress' stage as a subconscious confession ultimately became the catalyst to his downfall. Words strung along with his silver tongue in truth to the crux that was Charlotte Magne and how her naivete did not hinder that bullheaded determination that lacked so much in the people he's comes across.

The whole time, Rosie politely kept quiet and gave her ears to him in full attention. She took in his words and made sense of what was going on, coming to the conclusion that sitting right in front of her truly was the curious case of a murderous man simply in love.

“Love is a mysterious thing, is it not?”

She said it as though it was such a whimsical matter, like it wasn’t supposed to be sickening to the gut as it was to Alastor. 

“It’s a foolish thing.,” he spat as Mother and that bastard intrusively flashed in his thoughts once more. “Subjecting themselves to the playings of the heart… How weak.”

“Then you must be quite the fool, and also a hypocrite.”

Had that comment slipped from anybody else’s lips, they wouldn’t be alive in the next few minutes - his moods were too volatile to promise a level-headed response. But this was Rosie and her bluntness, while not so much appreciated, was given leeway for he knew that she spoke truths that he had no other choice but to accept. 

Still, it was not an easy matter to accept. “I know first-hand what damages ‘love’ brings,” he lamented as the remembrance of Mother and her constant broken state of sadness and despair continued to burn in his own shame. "Yet with Charlie, I don’t feel like I want to touch her. Look at her, going about with her silly dreams of a stupid rehabilitation hotel, and here’s me wishing that she’ll find success in every turn.”

“But?”

“But still, that sick twisted anima of mine wants to take that pretty face and rip it apart like I’ve done so many others.”

“So, why don’t you?” Rosie pressed. 

Alastor did not answer. Simply because he did not want to, for he knew he would definitely sound pathetic if he did. Such conceptions he still insisted must be - has to be - beneath him, even after he had told his tale to Rosie. But to contend on such beliefs made his tongue feel like lead, thus his quiet disquietude. 

His silence did speak volumes though. Rosie could almost hear the thoughts that are running through his mind now. So much confusion in that usually smart but deviant brain of his. The poor thing must definitely not know what to say, and it was out of somewhat pseudo-sisterly concern that she wanted to help ease him to make sense of them. 

“You know, had I been your age now, I think I would have trouble answering the same. But as I am now, I’ve come to learn that, for selfish people like us, the desire for their own needs always overpower anything else.”

Rosie sounded as far-away as her gaze was at the moment, having moved to something behind him. Curious, Alastorfollowed that line of sight to look at the same framed photo of a moustachioed gentleman staring back with dullness. 

“Have I ever told you about Franklin?”

Her late husband? Alastor's only ever heard bits and pieces about him; how he was the actual owner of the emporium up until his untimely death and only ever knowing how he looked like as of recent from the pictures that were in this living room. Seeing how she acted in her prime despite nearing her twilight years, Rosie would have never looked the part of a widow if it weren't for the fact that Franklin had been near his golden years when they wed so it would make a bit of sense.

"Franklin was… you could say he was a good man. An adequate husband. While he was that, he was without his flaws, yes, and one is that he lacked drive.”

Rosie’s gaze shifted to another photo where she in her youth was present, standing with poise with both hands on her husband's shoulders as he sat with the posture of a man weathered by time, whereas her eyes sparkled with bright youthful energy. 

“What sort of drive?” Alastor asked with genuine curiosity. As much as he was confused as to what this had to do with him, he always did love a good story and would more than appreciate a change for the time being.

Rosie’s gaze was glassy now, clouded as she lost herself to memories from a long time ago. 

“The emporium was down on its luck just as the _drys_ got what they wanted and people can’t get their _jorums of skee_ anymore. Dear Franklin was always the sort that believed that we should just mind our own business and live by the day. But tell me; how’s one supposed to do that with being inclined to just go day-by-day hoping to make just enough _scratch_ to put food on the table. That wasn’t a way to live.”

Gaze still glassy but had hardened into displeasure at the thoughts of such less-than-stellar living than she had been subjected to, a bitter turn down memory lane. 

“I learned through whispers of the _Skid Roads_ where the _runners_ congregated sub rosa. They spoke of finding hideaways where the _wets_ can go and pay good money to _nibble one_ , and there I was with a huge and empty basement that could be put to good use! But as expected, my ‘business ideals’ did not coincide with Franklin’s. He didn’t want to relinquish his respectable emporium to become a ‘lowly _gin mill_ ’. As though becoming tramps was nothing!”

The longer he stared at the image of the young girl in that framed photograph, it began to reshape in Alastor’s perception. What he would presume to be ‘bright youthful energy’ suddenly started to look like something else - the drive of one itching to get things done. It was an impatient look of someone knowing that the chance to secure a good living was just right at their fingertips that rested on the source of the hindrance. 

“So what of Franklin?” Alastor asked. 

Rosie still did not look away from Franklin’s grainy face, but there was a certain sadness that washed over her as the answer sat on her tongue. Yet, the sadness did not dampen resoluteness of a decision made firm. 

“I knew what I wanted, and I wasn’t going to let him stand in the way. Not even him.” 

Rosie did not have to say it for Alastor to get what she was trying to imply in what had become of her husband. It was no surprise to him, already knowing that she, like the rest of them, was not above murder if it came down to it. 

She finally tore away from the photograph of her husband to level Alastor with a firm stare that brought the question, “So, think to yourself carefully, my dear boy. To get what you want, are you willing to set aside your qualms for the sake of satisfying your vices?”

Ask Alastor before any of this happened and he would have given his answer with no hesitation since cold-blooded would have been the ideal word to usually describe him. Hell, he would think her lamentation of the past was nothing more than a good storytime that he’d have a nod and then forget about the next moment. 

“Do you really think I even want to be in this mess?”

However, as much as Alastor knew the point she was trying to make in telling her own tale for him to have an angle of her views of what must be done, but there was simply no use in asking him when he really could not give an answer. 

“I didn’t spend years killing people for my own dalliances only to want to give it all up for just one woman who’s a deviant to my damn feelings.”

Even more so when their situations clearly differed in terms of direness - unlike him, she did not have a dangerous interposer in the mix. 

“You tell me what am I to do now that I’ve got her father involved and dangling both my life and hers over my head.”

His smile was fixed to his facial muscles and his body was relatively slack, but even Rosie could see through all of that in his unsteady eyes where fear travelled through his veins and shone in the windows of his wrecked soul. How hard he tried to let nothing on his face betray his fear in his defiance to weakness, a trait she somehow could not help but admire even when faced with the bigger issue at hand. How was he to stay in love with a girl whose father was a ruthless gangster out for either his hands or his neck? Let the girl live and be with her in exchange for the man’s request of his dedication, or go through with slaughtering her and risk facing his own? 

Rosie only wondered what more could be done for the man torn between wanting two things that simply cannot go hand-in-hand .

One thing’s for sure; the stakes he was playing were undoubtedly high risks and against a vicious and powerful mobster, no less. This was not something she could see him going through with just smarts or brawn alone. 

"Wait here for just a moment."

Rosie left with a smooth swish of her skirt out the door and back down to the emporium. Left alone for the first time today, it was then that Alastor could feel himself get properly ravaged by the thoughts that were filling up so fast that it was threatening to split his head into two. There were just too many things for him to be able to take in all at once. Too many heavy decisions that he was completely unsure of what they would guarantee. 

Unsurprisingly, he still hadn't come up with a decision when Rosie returned with a bundle in her hands and a grim face.

"There would probably be no stopping what's to come, but… Just in case things go awry…”

She did not seek permission to touch before she took one of his hands gently, and Alastor was too worn but distracted by what was in her hand to react accordingly. He only did when the curious bundle was placed in his hands and the wrapping unveiled to reveal what instantaneously made his blood run cold with dread. 

“Use this when you really need to.”

* * *

It was a little past evening when Lucifer returned to Baton Rouge. With a gaze up at the darkening skies, he watched the clouds roll with the coming of rain. 

Somehow, such a sight brought upon an ominous feeling that he could not quite place his finger on. Considering how screwy the day’s been, Lucifer could probably brush it off as just an effect of that. However, he merely shrugged. He’s done all he’s needed to do today and he was back home where he wanted more than to kick his feet up and relax. He’ll give a damn to what's looking ominous the next time he really needed to. 

As he walked past the twins, he held out a small slip of parchment for Dazzle to take. “Get the chefs to try a hand at making some ‘gumbo’ for dinner tonight,” Lucifer instructed as the boy received the recipe card from him. “Gonna want to be switchin’ up the menu around here.”

The young butler gave a curious read-through of the cursive penmanship on the card before he and his twin followed in their employer’s wake, all this while Lucifer was wholly unaware of being watched the whole time by a pair of prying eyes from a window on the second floor. 

“Well, she ain’t back,” Frederick announced. 

“Why am I not surprised,” Seviathan muttered with a sigh.

The Von Eldriches were all gathered in a lounge having done nothing most of the day except to discuss the events of the previous night. The second day of their stay here at the Magne Manor was uneventful in light of the disaster that was dinner the night before, and all of them particularly felt wary of being around their hostess. 

But no good would come around from acting like sitting ducks. “Now what?” Frederick questioned his family, his wife specifically. "We can't do an apology if Charlotte ain't here for us to apologise."

“Why bother with anything?” Helsa complained with a huff disinclination. “Honestly, I don’t even want to stay a minute here longer. Can’t we just make up some excuse and leave?”

Her mother shook her head in firm disapproval. “Absolutely not. That would be absolutely impudent of us to just scatter off when we’ve upset the Magnes.”

“How are we the ones to upset them? It’s that little nitwit of a daughter of theirs that decided to _cast a kitten_ and run off!"

“Helsa!” Bethesda seethed. “Say that any louder and the Magnes will have our heads!”

Sure, her daughter did have a point to say that Charlotte Magne had blown things completely out-of-proportions. Still, their image to Magnes was on the line and it was a firm bet that both Lucifer and Lilith would side their daughter in the matter. If that were the case, they could not simply give the cold shoulder to the girl as they wished for risk of incurring further ire of her influential parents towards themselves, and there was nothing else they could do but apologise to her.

And Bethesda had already thought of a way how.

“Sevi, darling. You can be a dear and personally talk to Charlotte, won’t you?” 

Seviathan frowned. "What? Go down to New Orleans and make a show out of myself? Mother, you can't be serious."

Bethesda was dead-serious. 

"If you still have thought to take that girl's hand in marriage, then you'd do well to put up even just a bit of a show just for the sake of getting in their good graces and a gateway to their name and fortune."

Seviathan exchanged with Helsa at the audacity of their mother's idea and wasn't even given a sliver of a chance before Bethesda brought her hands together in a firm clap of a final decision. 

"So that settles it. You can head to New Orleans when we leave in a couple of days. Just be sure to get it done before you return to Britain for the new semester!"

* * *

Alastor had been right in his suspicions. Home was not where he wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

Especially now that he had a gun sitting right on his table.

A model made a good decade ago, during a time when it would have been Rosie’s heyday. Engraved with a cursive ‘F’, it was a clear indication of who its previous owner had been. The scratches at the tip of the barrel meant that Franklin definitely had a few good uses out of this thing before he had croaked, though Alastor couldn’t be quite sure for what purpose exactly. 

He had never once used a gun in his entire life and neither does he intend to. Anyone closest to him - which was basically Niffty, Husk and Rosie - knew much of his preference to work using his own bare hands for he found no thrill in not feeling a victim dying out using a mere weapon. Such soulless clunks of metals that are inaptly called ‘arms’ when arms would carry more life to do the dirty work of taking a life. It was also a luxury he could not afford and a whole business messier than what he could achieve with just something sharp. It would leave too much evidence for his liking, risks of bullets laying around after a shot or bullet holes in walls. 

So he wondered what Rosie must be thinking to be giving him such a weapon. 

***

“I can’t take this, Rosie.”

Alastor’s urging fell flat to her ears and she simply pushed away the hand that was trying to shove the gun back into hers. 

“For my sake, Alastor,” Rosie insisted gravely. “Whatever’s going to happen with the Big Apple, you’re gonna need a little extra ‘insurance’ for your safety.”

“There won’t be a need for it because I won’t let it come to that point,” Alastor argued adamantly. “This whole situation is just a fluke that’ll blow over.” He wasn’t truly sure himself if it would, but how bad could it be to the point of having to be forced in possession of such a weapon? 

Rosie, however, simply tutted with a shake of her head.

“Alastor, your confidence has always astounded me. But this time, confidence isn’t going to get you playing your cards right in such a tricky matter. If you aren’t careful, it would end up to be your folly.” 

***

Alastor grabbed the cold barrel of the gun. As though the metal was searing into his skin, he wanted to have it rid from his grasp quickly. A glance to make sure that the safety was on and it was quickly stashed away into the back of one of his desk drawers, where he purposely ignored the glint of a golden card that shone with a hint of an imprinted red apple.

The clatter as it closed shut was so pronounced that it seemed to still ring through the room even when silence returned again. It echoed like the each and every conversation made today, twisting and turning in the confines of his cranium like a hurricane that threatened to ravage everything within him until he was nothing but a damaged mess.

But in the eye of the storm that was his thoughts, there was only her.

The downpour of the night was just about coming in by the time Alastor left the house with the only thing in his mind was to keep taking each step closer and closer towards Charlie’s porch. The dark purple sky was beginning to roll with the dullness of a muted grey, the winds making its arrival known with the rustling of leaves and the soft howls resounding through every gap and corner of the neighbourhood. 

Each step weighed heavy enough that it felt he could probably break through and fall into the depths of the nether-Earth when he placed a foot on the first porch step. The lights of the living room flickered in its indication that she was still awake and near, thus not holding back in the insistent knocking of his door. He knew he probably looked ridiculous for coming all the way here in just his undershirt and cotton trousers, but standing there in his pajamas, he waited for her to come in frenzied anticipation with the rushing of quick footsteps to the door that opened immediately. 

“Alastor?”

There was no time for pleasantries because he was pushed by the need for distraction, for comfort, for just a moment’s peace. Alastor did not wait to take Charlie into his arms and bring her into a kiss that was soft yet unyielding in his confused desperation to just be with her. 

How could he possibly keep himself to the confines of his home when the quietude tormented him with reminders of her presence? Her lingering essence seduced him to follow with his want to go to her. It was truly terrifying how easily swayed he was by just the mere thought of her that filled him with such insatiable desire to be held by her. Ironic, coming from a man who would so typically shun any form of touch, and it was still nerve-wracking to be held so much more than he had been used to in his entire life. 

But it was in her touch that he wanted to lose himself. For this moment, he did not want to think about what could be in store for him at this dilemma that the crossroads of choice was risking him to make one single wrong decision that would steal her away from him for good. For now, he wanted to just lose himself in her in the simplest way possible. In the way she stirred his senses in this moment of vulnerability, he would allow her to take the reins for this night. 

Even when he didn’t say anything except to proceed with such a sudden inclination, Charlie somehow knew and understood that. Although there was certainly much to talk about, now was not the time for questions or for explanations. Not when they’ve both had a pretty bad day and it was evident that they just wanted a relief from the stress put on them. Without hesitation, she relented into the kiss, holding him as tight as he held her as she took him into the warmth of her house. 

Alastor was prepared this time though. Constantly bugged by the Big Apple’s words ringing in his head, he had made a quick stop at the pharmacy before heading home. 

_“If you’re gonna be with my daughter, then for God’s sake, use protection.”_

* * *

The night brought a type of coldness that soaked into the bones, making one feel like their insides were subjected to the icy wind and the sharp pelting of rain. The only thing that could be done was to keep moving, through dirt and grime in the thicket of trees, the sloshing of shoes and metal hitting soft wet earth drowned out by the thunder above. 

“How much deeper?” Vox yelled out of the trench he’s painstakingly dug up. He was vexed enough as it was with being sopped in the torrents of the rain, so he didn’t want to keep digging when the mud kept sliding back in and diminishing the efforts he’s put to dig for the past while. 

Valentino was not of much help either, ‘keeping watch’ at the top while shivering in the bone-chilling temperature. At his feet lay the burlap sack of the reason for their being here which was why he was standing guard. Then again, who would be out in the furthest middle of the New Orleans marshes in this sort of drencher?

“A little more,” Valentino replied loudly. “Deep enough that the rain don’t wash it away.”

Vox cursed under his breath but got back to digging. He didn’t give two shits if the heavy load of sludge he shovelled out over his shoulder hit his accomplice; it was only fair seeing as how his suit was already ruined in it. Valentino would have complained but there was no point in whining when they were here to do what was needed, witnessed by none except the raindrops by the millions and the tall trees that only cast the forest further into darkness. 

“I think this is good enough!” Valentino suddenly exclaimed when the depth of the hole looked adequate enough to his dim vision. 

Barely catching that, Vox immediately threw the shovel he had in hand out of the hole and struggled to find footing to climb his way out, scrambling like a man escaping a grave. The rain did not do much to sluice down the mud that’s covering him from head-to-toe but there was no hope for the suit left so why bother. All both of them wanted to do now was to be done here and get himself cleaned up somewhere warm and dry. 

And so the evidence was gotten rid off with an unceremonious kick to the deep hole. 

Valentino’s complaints were ignored when the shovel was passed to him, left to grumble as he worked his part in putting back dirt into the hole. Vox fruitlessly tried to take shelter under a nearby tree, shivering and shaking with nerves on end to the happenings of the forest all around. He kept thinking that he heard something somewhere in the coppices but maybe he was just tired and pissed so his mind's just screwing around with him. 

It was a long while more before Valentino finally shovelled that last bit of dirt atop the dug mound, jamming his foot on it several times to squish it so that it doesn’t look too inconspicuous. He’s pretty sure that the rain would do most of the job anyway, washing away the scene of the crime in their stead.

“That should do it,” Vox grumbled through grit teeth. “Now let’s get the fuck outta here.”

And so they went off in complaints and curses, not looking forward to the trek back to where they had hidden the car. It would be a miracle if they were able to find their way in this darkness. They hoped they did as they started making their way down the path they presume to have come from, too distracted by the shroud of loud thundering rain to notice the footsteps squelching in the mud towards that freshly-dug spot. 

Anyone who crossed the path might be terrified of the sight of something cryptid-like hunching in the deepness of the New Orleans marshes in such a sort of sinister tempest, knees planted to the ground sinking into wet dirt as mud squished in handfuls in a frantic digging as it thought of nothing else - not of the rain or the cold or the filth - until cold fingers touched something soft that clearly did not naturally belong to the Earth. 

Sitting in that pit that filled with despair and rainwater that had long washed away the nail marks in the dirt. The deluge was deafening in that hollowed hole, but it was all nothing but white noise to him. He couldn’t tell if his fingers were shaking, blinded by both cold rain and hot tears, but still, Angel’s grip on Cherri’s head was tight as he stared in horror at her dead eyes. 

His cries could almost be heard over the howls of the raging winds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rosie's given her own thoughts of the matter but looks like Mr Carlon's just not in the right headspace to be thinking too much when he already has a lot on his mind. But however long he's taking to think, he oughta do it fast! Looks like the Von Eldriches are on the move to get another shot at the precious Magne girl and Seviathan's arrival to New Orleans seems imminent! Then again, would that really be of concern when our darling Angel's uncovered the last thing he'd EVER want to see?
> 
> Things are being taken up a notch and I am just about strapped in to see where these new arising of problems will take us next! Kind of sweet that Charlie's the one he goes for that little bit of comfort, but you sure that this isn't going to bite you in the ass soon, Alastor? (At least he's wearing protection now!) 
> 
> As always, lovely fanart of Smiling Man is a huge motivation boost, and I'm blessed to receive yet another beautiful gift from darling Nancy (@Nancyplus100). Thank you my love!
> 
> 1920s slang:
> 
> Beef - Problem  
> Drank out of the same bottle - Close friends  
> Sock - Punch  
> Button - Face  
> Sockdollager - Knock out punch  
> Crab - Figure out  
> Hinky - Suspicious  
> Drys - Prohibition supporters  
> Jorums of skee - Swig of liquor  
> Scratch (1910s slang) - Money (A/N: Rosie's prime years was throughout the 1910s, so she would use slang from the era occasionally)  
> Skid Roads - Areas where bootleggers hauled their goods  
> Runners - Bootleggers  
> Wets - Prohibition opposers  
> Nibble one - Have a drink  
> Gin mill - Speakeasy  
> Cast a kitten - Have a temper tantrum


	59. Fortune's Fool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters from the Hazbin Hotel belong to the amazing Vivziepop. I merely live and breathe the show and the Charlastor ship.
> 
> Inspired by doodlingclown's Mysterious Neighbour AU comic!: https://doodlingclown.tumblr.com/post/189480288464/mysterious-neighbor-au-this-follows-the-same
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @MuseVlt

Morning came and granite-grey skies softened as daylight shone in fissures of soft sunshine. The birds were chirping and getting a song in before they might have to hide away when the rain came again, but for now, everybody was out in the start to their day. 

Charlie’s waking thoughts were slow but she was very aware of fingers trailing up and down the length of her spine in gentle caresses, a dull reverberation under her cheek, and Alastor surprisingly humming a tune. It may have been what had sauntered her awake and it grabbed her slow-rousing attention first-thing. This was unlike other times he’s hummed songs when he was up and about walking with confident strides. It was a soothing sound, all silver-toned in a wordless melody. 

It was only when he started a certain part that was that chorus that her heart swelled to double its size. She couldn’t help but fill in the words to that particular tune. 

“Will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful…”

The humming stopped and so did the caresses of his fingers. His breathing remained in a steady rhythm of an exhale and his heartbeat continued in placed cadences. Charlie turned her head up slightly and peeked from under her lashes, finding him already looking so tender-hearted at her. 

“Good morning…”

The smile Alastor returned softened her senses. “Good morning, darling. His voice was husky like the sighing of her name and other endearments last night, and Charlie could already feel a familiar warmth starting to pool in her core. 

Lazily, Charlie pushed herself up to her elbows so that she could bring her face to his. It was with such ease now that she could just give a kiss without qualms, made better that Alastor accepted without resistance. They kissed gently, tenderly, basking in their shared warmth. Like his eyes that were a window to his soul, his lips were the same for his body - full of promises for sweetness to come. 

The kiss broke and Charlie easily settled back into the arms that wrapped around her. Just like that, it was like nothing else mattered except how oh so class they were. Carefully tracing the scars that marked his chest - he did not seem to mind this time, or if he did, he maintained his composure - and listening to his breathing amidst the beating of his heart, Charlie had to wrap her head around the fact that he was really here in her bed, in her room, in her house. 

It had been a wild night when he made a sudden appearance at her doorstep. She had been surprised that he'd actually come ‘prepared’ this time, but it was a sweet gesture that he’s thought to be a bit more responsible with her. And now basking in the afterglow, she’s come to cherish such moments that they got to be together. She didn’t think she would need that but she sure did, and now here she was all pleasurably sore and sated and too lazy in indulged bliss to want to do anything else except to breathe in his scent and listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat. 

“Are you alright?” Alastor asked when Charlie got a tad too quiet. 

“Mmhm. And you?”

A deep sigh expelled. “Well, it was one Hell of a day yesterday.”

Just that small mention brought enough of a tinge of sourness to the mood. “It sure was…”

Neither of them felt particularly pressed to discuss what had happened yesterday. Even if Charlie had some questions, especially wanting to know if her father had done anything to Alastor, sensibility told her that the time and place for it was not now. 

She whined softly when Alastor started to pull away. “Where are you going?” she asked. It may have come off so clingy, but she was not keen on having such a comfortable moment of tranquillity be broken so very soon, worried that the reminder of yesterday completely discontented the mood. 

Alastor’s smile was reassuring but sombre with mild regret when he told her, “I need to get to work.”

The peg-legged clock on her nightstand read a quarter past seven and more sunlight that could break through the overcast in the sky was beginning to stream into her windows and give the room a little more light. His workday must still be an hour away, considering how he wasn’t in so much of a rush as of yet, but he needed to get going nonetheless.

“I see. You better get ready to go then.”

Charlie did not let her disappointment be clear so that Alastor could slip out of the bed and begin to put back on his clothes that had been strewn across the floor. She did the same in making herself decent as he did but with just her night robe. The discrete glances that she could see from the corner of her eyes made brought a soft pinkish glow to her cheeks. 

“You look lovely,” Alastor said candidly. “As much as I would love to enjoy the view, I need to have a poker face on if I’m to make the walk back home in just my pajamas.”

It was a good thing that Charlie had just the thing to help with that. “Here you go.” She went to her dressing chair and picked up his robe that had been draped there. “I was going to return it to you anyway.”

“Thank Heavens.” The robe probably wouldn’t do much to cease any talk should people see him out, but at least it was a lot less scandalous than him in just his pajamas. 

Footsteps were muted on the stairs as Charlie accompanied him to the front door. “Would you like some breakfast?” she asked, out of cordial hospitality and not so much of the yearn to just bide his time.

She can’t say that she was surprised when he declined. “I really don’t wish to impose. I’ve done enough of that dropping by so suddenly last night,” Alastor said. “Besides, I’m afraid I might be running a little late.”

Charlie nodded understandingly. Despite whatever’s been happening the past couple of nights, neither of them could deny that the real world was still moving outside the little bubble that they had found themselves in. They had work and responsibilities to tend to and can’t be forgotten. 

Still, it felt dreary to part without knowing when would be the next time they could have a moment together in peace. Charlie felt that, and so did Alastor. 

“Perhaps, we could have dinner tonight?” he asked in quiet hopeful reassurance. “If it’s not too much to ask, you could swing by the station once I clock off?”

While her expression remained rather poised, the twinkle in her eyes gave away her eagerness. “That sounds  _ swell _ ,” she replied sweetly. 

And it was such sweetness that pulled at Alastor’s heartstrings. His hands came up to her arms gently and she could already feel the sparks from his fingertips. It could not compare the touch of his soft lips, as addictive as the first time and the many other times that had followed since then. Like breakfast at his place the day before, this felt so domestic; a husband stealing another kiss from his beloved wife just before he left the house to start the workday, the silent promise of another one waiting when he returned to have dinner with her. 

They both sighed quietly when their lips parted, though their hold remained. “Well…  _ Bank’s closed _ ,” Charlie murmured with a soft smile. Another peck was tempting but she didn’t want to keep him any longer than she should, letting go of him first. 

She giggled as she watched him take a good look around the neighbourhood to ensure that the coast was clear from the prying eyes of nosy neighbours before he made a quick beeline to his house. Alastor could almost hear that tinkling laughter in his wake, but could not chance himself to give a final look behind. 

The door closed and the morning silence settled in once more, the warm and fuzzy feeling that he had left behind in her giving her that chance for her to continue basking in its loveliness in her lonesome…

Until Charlie remembered that she technically wasn’t alone.

She knew that it was probably - no, definitely - such an insolent move of her to bring Alastor in the house whilst Vaggie was still around, but with what’s she said and done, Charlie just wasn’t feeling any particular need to take care of her feelings when it was undeserved. The least she did was to ensure she and Alastor were quiet so as to not risk another fight. Thankfully, sex had been peacefully uninterrupted and she could at least enjoy that wholeheartedly before blissfully falling asleep.

But such enjoyment could not linger the longer this animosity continued, and Charlie dreaded the thought of not being able to fully explore her renewed relationship with Alastor if she had to tiptoe around Vaggie’s feelings. Ignorant silence would only add more fuel to the fire, and as much as it was dangerous to approach the flames, the only way to resolve it - if even possible - was to go near and douse it by herself. 

Before she could change her mind, Charlie was already back up on the second floor facing Vaggie’s bedroom door. She could hear no movement from inside, which might mean that the girl was still asleep. Perhaps it would be best not to disturb her then if it weren’t for the time; it was routine for Vaggie to already be up and about around now to go about her house duties. 

She knocked on the door. 

“Vaggie?”

No response.

She knocked again. “Vaggie. We need to talk.” Her demand, though gentle, was clear in firmness. Still, that did not incite a response too.

Charlie sighed. The silent treatment was to be expected, the withdrawal from any sort of social interaction only natural in the circumstances. The quarrel they had was not only fierce, but also vastly different from any disagreements they had in the past. The aftermath was awkward, atmosphere uncomfortable, and the quietude heart-wrenching.

However, turning back time was not a possibility; and even if it was, Charlie didn’t know if she would choose this route. The meaning she didn’t exactly regret; it was the execution Charlie wished would be done differently. Hence, she didn’t blame her friend from closing herself off as much as she did. How could she? It would not only be unfair, but also quite hypocritical, seeing Charlie herself avoid running into Vaggie since yesterday.

But the stillness was just becoming too grave and unbearable.

She pressed her ears against the door, feeling the vibrations of another knock against the wood. “Vaggie?” she called out a little longer this time. Not even one rustle, not one breath murmured from the inside, and Charlie wondered how an alive person could stay this unbelievably quiet. She furrowed her brows in worry, spiced up with just the tiniest splash of irritation. As collected as she came here, her patience was growing thin; how could things between them be mended, if Vaggie so blatantly refused to talk to her at all? She thought her to be more mature than that.

Her hand gripped the doorknob with the resolve to use the spare key she had hidden somewhere in the room, but such an idea was not needed when the door surprisingly opened.

There was only an empty room. 

* * *

The bed was lumpy and sleep was terrible, but it probably had less to do with the bed and more to do with the fact that her mind could not shut up about what had happened the day before.

What time was it? Vaggie’s pretty sure she had slept in but couldn’t really tell for how long with how the skies were grey as it always has been for the past few weeks. Rain was in full swing, befitting the mood that she felt stuck in. 

Vaggie had always been the strong one, for her mother and  _ abuela  _ and sisters, and even especially for Charlie. She’s always been the sort to not hesitate to take her stand and charge her way through things if it meant helping the ones she loved. Thus, how miserable it was to feel so weak now. Worse still when, unlike how she would have done for others, she had literally no one to be by her side. 

She felt weighed down to the bed, as though the guilt was an invisible mass sitting right on top of her with no way to move it. What she had done, she could not undo. At this point, would there really be any way to amend things? Vaggie felt like such a possibility was hopeless but she fervidly clung onto it until her sanity’s broken down so much that such a thought was the only thing keeping her from going  _ off the edge  _ in despair. 

It was anger that sullied the pain. What she did was for Charlie. As hurtful as it may have been to Angel, it had been all to ease Charlie’s burden. That was no denying that the little slip of the tongue was her mistake, but as painfully truthful as it was, it was the truth nonetheless. Yes, she did not believe in the hotel and its mission. Yes, she thought Charlie would be unable to handle the burden that came with it. But was she wrong to think that such a thing was really a frivolous idea? Charlie knew that and she knew that everybody else she’s come across with the plan so far had thought the same. 

Still, even with her disbelief, Vaggie had been the only one to have stuck by her side and helped her in any way she could. Save for the first time that Angel had been invited to stay at the hotel, she had always held her tongue as Charlie went through the motions of turning her dream into a reality. And it was somewhere around that journey that she actually could feel a bit of belief that the idea may actually work out. It was Charlie’s determination to stick through despite all the shortcomings that’s opened her mind to actually have hope for her. 

But was that hope enough to save their friendship? Would hope be able to salvage anything the next time they had to come face-to-face? Was there even a chance of forgiveness? Was this the consequences of her actions? Was this her karma? To feel such a pain that was akin to heartbreak from the loss of a lover, but worse when that supposed lover only had heart for another?

Vaggie truly did not have any answer to coax herself, and honestly, she couldn’t find the energy or the mental willpower to think. She just wanted to go back to bed and wish one more futile time that this was all just a nightmare and she would wake up without any of this haunting. 

* * *

Charlie supposed she may have been a tad too eager to see him, else she wouldn’t already be out of the house and near the radio station a good hour before Alastor was due to get off work. However, it wasn’t so much out of eagerness than it was out of the discomfort of having to stay in the house by herself. 

Granted, it was a relief that Vaggie hadn’t been around the whole time Alastor was so it saved her a lot of trouble. But it brought the question on where exactly Vaggie must have gone off too. Her bed was too neatly-made to look like it had been slept in recently, so she definitely must not have gone to bed last night. If so, then that would mean that she was already out of the house by then, maybe even earlier. Last she saw her was definitely right after their huge spat, having left her in the foyer and not looking back to see what she was doing in her rush to her bedroom. If that was really the last time she’d been in the house, then Charlie had actually gone a full day without realising her absence.

Without a doubt, that made her feel really bad. As much as it may feel undeserving, the worry was inevitable. Vaggie had no friends or acquaintances here in New Orleans, the shrinking violet that she was, so it was highly unlikely that she could seek refuge with anyone else. There was Angel, but with what Vaggie done to him, Charlie was certain that it was highly implausible for the two of them to be together. So striking out those two and unless there’s another option that she wasn’t aware of, the only logical reason would be that Vaggie was at the hotel. 

That somehow only put Charlie’s nerves even more on end. She needed to go back to the hotel soon enough to carry on her work. Renovations were about to come into a full circle and there were letters to send out to more potential sponsors, volunteers and patrons. It was in due time that the hotel could finally start to open its doors proper and get things swinging, so she simply couldn’t have such hindrances. 

But how was she to do that when Vaggie was that ‘hindrance’? Charlie’s already to the point where she wanted no bad blood at all but if Vaggie leaving meant the only resolve to this, then so be it. It would be so unlike her to think in such a way but she’s frustrated at the thought of having to give in when the other was just as much to blame as she was. How were they ever going to come to a compromise or a resolve or just anything to this damning situation if this was how she wanted to act? 

Well, it was nothing she could really figure out while sitting aimlessly at a park bench all bored out of her mind. She needed to get up and stretch her legs. Maybe that could help get her thoughts running while also killing time much more eventfully while she waited for Alastor. 

The day was damp but it was a good thing that the rain had stopped about an hour ago. The crispness of cold still tinged the air that she felt it nice and sharp in her lungs when she took in breaths to try to clear her head, but it admittedly wasn’t doing anything much to think of a proper solution to such a predicament. 

So occupied were her thoughts that she did not realise she had wandered into Jackson Square until the sound of a street fair going on took her by surprise. Merchants selling their wares in makeshift tents and a street musician or two sitting at various corners playing beautiful tunes to make a quick buck, doing whatever they could in the little time they had before the pour would start again soon. 

Charlie took her time walking through the small fair, admiring the trinkets put on display and putting some small change in the upturned hats on the ground. Nothing so far really caught her attention.

Until she came across a familiar tent.

“Hello?”

It was so quiet inside that she would have thought it to be empty if not for the sudden booming heartiness of a rich Cajun accent replying, “Hel- Ay! I remember ya!”

From the same chair that was placed the same as Charlie had remembered, she saw the fortune teller - Mama Ida, she recalled correctly - get up from her chair and walk over to her with open arms. “Come in,  _ chèr _ , come come!” Mama Ida gestured to her with a warm smile and soft grip. “Here be lookin’ for another fortune told?”

Charlie had felt compelled to visit the peculiar fortune teller all so suddenly. That first trip to Mama Ida’s felt like ages ago. Oh, how much had happened since she had first wandered into the tent with Alastor and it brought many things back to her curiosities.

Especially that one particularly  _ hinky  _ reading. 

“Well, not exactly. I just wanted to ask about what happened the last time.”

Mama Ida looked confused until realisation dawned upon her. “Oh, ya  _ prétendu _ . The one that gone made a big  _ bahbin _ .”

“Err, yes. You had said some particularly strange things about his fortune.”

Any warmth in the Cajun woman’s face dulled down into grimness at the mention of it. “ _ Co faire _ ?” she asked, which Charlie took it as an inquiry as to why. 

“He’s been a little out-of-sorts lately. A lot has happened since the last time we saw you and I can see his behaviour’s getting stranger and stranger. So I’m curious… What did you see?”

Even so long ago, Charlie could remember everything almost clearly. The fortune teller’s graveness as she read from the palm of his hand that he had been so reluctant to give, Alastor’s nonchalant attitude shifting into one akin to fear and panic, his composure wavering until he had forced himself out of her hold and then suddenly had an eerie calm about him before rushing out refusing to listen to more. Charlie remembered bits and pieces of the fortune told; something about ‘bad  _ juju _ ’, about shadows, about being covered in red. There had been two particular words that were foreign and escaped her memory. Anvie? Envy?

“ _ Ahnvee  _ and  _ envie _ , child,” Mama Ida answered, as though reading her mind. “Hunger.”

“‘Hunger’?” Charlie was confused. “What’s he got to be hungry about?”

But Mama Ida tutted and shook her head. “Tis ain’t be no hunger satisfied with grub,  _ boo _ . This be a different sort. One that’s more _ de’pouille _ . Oughta be sinister if they be a  _ couillon _ ”

‘Sinister’? Such a strong word. “But he’s not sinister,” Charlie insisted. In spite of hsi period of unexplained absence and cold behaviour in the days that had followed, she would never have gone to the point of calling him ‘sinister’.

Mama Ida looked uncertain at her claim. Charlie’s sure that she would stand by what the ‘spirits’ had told her at the point of time. Then again, she did not know the man at all to be speaking truths, thus rightfully holding her tongue on the matter. 

“Then, do you think you could possibly tell me what his future might hold?’

“Now,  _ beb _ , can’t be gummin’ about other people’s fortunes” Mama Ida tutted. “That be bad luck.”

Of course, she couldn’t. This woman wasn’t a prophet who got revelations out-of-the-blue by some power from up above. She read the ‘future’ from physical touch of the hands, not from pulling anything out of thin air. 

But as ridiculous as pulling anything out of thin air sounded, could anything be more ridiculous than the thought of having to resort to some questionable palmistry? Charlie was very sure that she might be considered a loon for wanting to ‘see into the future’ as an answer to all her problems. 

Then again, there was nothing for her to lose if she did. 

“Then tell me mine.”

Now that, Mama Ida could do. Without a word, she held out a hand for Charlie placed her own. 

“If ya lookin’ for a little more bit of truth, can tell ya what ya really need to know.”

The roughness of the older woman’s fingertips, worn and weathered by time and labour that spoke stories to her soft pristine skin, ran gently across the lines of her palm, eyes deciphering what hidden meaning was kept there.

Charlie wondered what might she tell that could be different from the last fortune she’s received. Back then, she had thought Mama Ida to be spot-on with foretelling that she had received good news concerning the hotel. But Alastor had debunked it as just simply reading off her emotions and giving her what she wanted to her. Then again, there had been that second part to the fortune that seemed so believable now after everything that’s happened. 

“Ya caught in some real bad troubles,  _ catin _ ? Something more to do than loverboy?”

Her last prediction told of some trouble of the heart and mind would bring her much distress and it was eerie now to think that many things had gone south not so long after that. If it was really mumbo-jumbo she was whipping up, then she was quite spot-on.

“Yes…” Charlie admitted sadly.

“Hot, like Hades itself. Boilin’, all  _ chaud  _ and tainted sickly with  _ jalousie _ .”

Charlie didn’t know what couple of that Cajun speak were and probably was thinking too much into it, but why did it feel like she was talking about Vaggie? 

A finger trailed one random line on her palm. “It’s burnin’ ya up inside, makin’ ya crave nothing more than a cold breeze to put that flame out. Right,  _ chèr _ ? ”

“Um... I guess you could say that?” Charlie really couldn’t understand the analogy, so she just simply agreed. 

Another trace of a fingertip in another area of her small palm, and Mama Ida’s brows furrowed and her lips pursed. “Well, that soft breeze do come indeed, but it not be what ya could hope.”

Now Charlie was confused. “How is it not something I hoped if it’s something I needed?” she asked. 

“Because there’s something dark about this breeze. Lookin’ like it’s gonna be a storm brewin’ all around you. Yet, it stays still.”

“‘Stays still’?” 

“Yes, child. It ain’t turning to hail or anythin’ like a  _ grimacer _ . It’s just circlin’, all dark and chaotic. Confused."

Could that be about Alastor? Considering his behaviour that had led up to this point, 'confused' would be the sort of term Charlie could somewhat pin on him. But if he was confused, about what? Her? 

"What's the 'storm' going to do then?"

With that question came a gentle press of a calloused thumb against the centre of the palm. It was like Mama Ida was trying to force out some answer for her through her pores, and as impossible as such a thing sounded, there was nothing.

“Tis where it’s all cloudy here, child. Dark and casting shadows like the lost souls at The Gates of Guinee. At the cross for a  _ vérité  _ not yet seen, the shadows loom over ya, waiting and watching at ya stitch between vile elements, hot and cold all around ya.”

It was suddenly difficult to breathe, as though the air was sucked out of her. She could feel the pulse of her now-racing heartbeat emanating through her as a chill ran down her spine and froze her in place. When Mama Ida finally released her hold, Charlie did not immediately withdraw her hand. It stayed there hovering over the table like it was suspended in time, and she could do nothing else but stare at it as though to decipher what other underlying meanings that the fortune teller would have missed out reading. 

“Is there anything else you want to know,  _ chèr _ ?” Mama Ida asked, giving her a concerned look. 

Her senses were slowly starting to return and fix her composure but she still felt quite a bit dumbed out from that sudden little reaction. What else was there to know when she herself did not know what to make of what’s been told? If anything, she’s felt more confused than she’d been before she stepped into the tent. 

“Is there anything I can do to stop it from happening?”

The last time she had asked that sort of question, she was told to choose her path wisely to determine her fate. And the same was told to her when Mama Ida told her gravely, “Ya can’t stop what’s written in Fate, girlie. Tis set, and moving like the  _ nuée  _ above.”

Definitely not assuring at all.

She wasn’t sure if she would be seeing Mama Ida anytime soon - curious to think that she wondered if she ever would see her again - so she made sure to leave quite a hefty tip for her time. The smile that the Cajun woman gave was concerning though - it was encouraging, yet uneasy. 

Just like the first time, Charlie left the fortune teller’s tent feeling very unsettled. Too preoccupied with thoughts again to pay any more attention to the small fair calling out to her to see their goods or listen to their tunes. It was like she was in a dazed trance as she left Jackson Square and subconsciously retraced her steps to the same bench that was thankfully still unoccupied, where she sat with elbows on her knees and hunched over in brooding introspection to know just what was to be made sense of. 

“Charlie?”

She snapped out of her thoughts to see Alastor right in front of her with concern knitting his frown and half-hearted smile. “Got a little far-away there,” he remarked casually but the concern never left his furrowed brows. “Is everything alright, darling?”

Was everything alright? She really can’t be too sure. Other than Vaggie having run off, now she’s got to know that there’s something not really lovely waiting ahead in her future?

“Nothing. I just got a little bored from waiting.”

If she were to tell him, she was certain that he would laugh. Besides, he was the one who had chided such ‘bushwa’ from the first time. He would definitely still hold to such a statement and possibly chide her for letting herself get so worked up over a random fortune-teller’s ‘prophecy’. 

“Bored? Have you been waiting long?”

Oh, no way was Charlie going to slip that she had been here way earlier than one would when planning to meet somebody. Clinginess in the morning was already a fair bit, but this would definitely seem a tad overboard.

“Not too long,” was what she replied, thankful that Alastor chose not to prod. Getting up and brushing down her skirts, she fixed a smile in place. “Come on, we oughta get moving before the dinner crowd hits. Anything you hankering for?”

“Well, I am hankering for a good jambalaya. We haven’t had that in a while, have we?”

The bundle of nerves that had now started up in her guts brought uncertainty on if she could have the stomach for such a meal, but not eating would be both suspicious and disrespectful. 

“Jambalaya, it is,” Charlie agreed easily. “Perhaps we could grab some beignets from du Monde on the way back as a treat.”

Distaste of sweets aside, he nodded. “Anything for you, doll.”

When Alastor’s hand reached out and his fingers slipped through hers, thoughts of fires and storms and shadows quickly dispelled. Charlie started feeling all silly for getting all worked up over such trivial things, of omens 'predicted' that still held no root in truth regardless. With that, she shed her uncertainties with a belief as firm as the way their hands held together that things really could work out some way or another.

* * *

To say that she panicked when she heard the loud knocks coming from the main door would be an understatement. 

Vaggie would never expect Charlie would be making an appearance so soon. Here she was, in the kitchen looking dishevelled in nightclothes she had yet to change out of and a cup of tea in hand that was her supposed first meal of the day, all unprepared to face her best friend. 

Vaggie knew of the inevitable of having to face Charlie soon enough. She had nowhere else to go except her house and her hotel. And when that happened, what was she to do? Talk? Apologise? Would Charlie even be willing to forgive her? Would she be willing to forgive Charlie? What will happen at the culmination of so much shit going down?

But then, something dawned on her. 

Charlie had the keys to the hotel, so why was she knocking? 

And if she was knocking, why was she at the hotel at this late hour of a stormy night far out from home on her own?

Panic took a new hold as apprehension as Vaggie proceeded with cautionary steps to the front door. The knocking came quiet but turned louder the closer she got, and when she was standing right in front of it, it got louder and faster. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought that there was probably some madman on the other side trying to force his way in. 

What was she to do? Should she call the police? Should she run? But would there be enough time? And it was raining, so would it be more dangerous to be exposed to the open? Should she call Charlie? But would her friend even come?

“Let me in,” came a loud but broken voice that was nearly drowned out by the pouring rain. “Let me in, please.”

Suddenly, Vaggie wasn’t scared anymore. When she actually pulled open the door without hesitation, what was there to be scared of the sight of a drenched, dirtied and bloodied Angel? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mama Ida's back and dishing out some fortunes that may not be of favour to our bold heroine! What could the soothsayer have seen and what could it mean for the outcome that's about to face Charlie? Will she ever head back to the hotel and make peace with Vaggie, who's definitely has a bit of a handful with the sudden appearance of a very suspicious-looking Angel? 
> 
> Haven't really been having a good past week with a lot of things happening all too many times at once for me in real life. Really want to apologise for my lack of activity on my social medias but I do try to build up enough energy to be on the apps for a bit before I feel like I need to take a break. I'm all okay! Just that exhaustion and a little bit of stillness is kind of setting in, but I'd like to thank each and every one of you for your kind understanding! I'll try to be a little more talkative as I used to so please be patient with me!
> 
> And not forgetting anything, it's still very heartwarming to see the fanfic being shown love in beautiful art. Thank you so much my darling Fabi (@Fabi_Kissme5) for our beautiful dancing duo~
> 
> I am getting really excited for this arc because things are about to get into quick motion! Some minor characters may be making a reappearance, some things come back full circle, and a whole lot of SHIT is definitely well on its way downhill (we can thank our lovely anti-hero for that!)
> 
> 1920s slang: 
> 
> Swell - Good  
> Bank's Closed - No kissing  
> Off the edge - Going crazy  
> Hinky - Suspicious
> 
> Cajun speak:
> 
> Chèr - Term of endearment; Darling  
> Prétendu - Boyfriend  
> Bahbin - A pouting facial expression  
> Co faire - Why?  
> Ahnvee - Desire  
> Envie - Want  
> De’pouille - Mess  
> Couillon - Crazy person  
> Catin - Endearing term for a girl  
> Chaud - Angry  
> Jalousie - Jealousy  
> Grimacer - Very light rain  
> Vérité - Truth  
> Nuée - Clouds


End file.
